Plan D Is For Draco
by fanficto obsesso
Summary: All of her carefully laid out plans have gone completely awry. It's time for Plan D.
1. Chapter 1: Hermione

**A/N: Hello, hello! Well, here is the FULL first chapter of ****Plan D Is For Draco****. What you have read before (if you have, indeed, read this before) was a preview. Here is the real thing, chapter 2 is finished and is going to be uploaded as soon as this one is up.**

**And for those who are patiently waiting for my other stories to be updated, please be patient. I am still in the process of trying to figure out where I want those both to go. But I thank you for continuing to be patient and I hope that you will continue to do so while I continue the rewriting process.**

**Anyway, enough idle chit-chat. Here's the story!**

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**Plan D is for Draco**

**Part One**

"All my carefully laid out plans have gone to shite."

A deep voice chuckled somewhere above Hermione's head, which was currently buried under two silk throw pillows.

Silk.

She inwardly scoffed at her friend's vanity and materialistic nature. Of course she was now gleefully ruining them with her angry tears, which seemed to make her feel marginally better.

"I keep telling you, Weasley is a ponce. But of course, you never listen to me." And of course, leave it to him to remind her why she felt like shit.

She and Ronald Weasley had broken up…again.

"So what is this now, Granger? The sixth time?"

"Seventh," she mumbled. The seventh time…this year. "And hopefully for good."

"That's what you said last time."

Hermione sighed. Yes, she had said that before. But she couldn't help it! Ron was part of her ultimate life plan!

She had begun formulating The Plan (as she mentally called it) way back in her fourth year of Hogwarts. It was that year that she had finally started to see what Lavender and Parvati were always tittering about. She had, at first, started to notice little things about all the boys at school. Harry did have rather stunning eyes and Dean Thomas looked so strong and tall. Even Malfoy had his moments when he wasn't being such a prick to everyone. But the one who had really caught her eye was Ron.

Ron could be so funny and he was fiercely loyal. He also had this cute dimple in his right cheek when he smiled. Sure, he could be a right git at times and, yes, his table manners were atrocious. But to Hermione, it was all part of his charm.

At the first mention of the Yule ball, Hermione's brain started working. She, of course, wanted to go with Ron, but didn't want to seem to eager by asking him. She had assumed Ron would finally buck up the courage and ask. They would have an absolutely wonderful time and share their first kiss to a slow song on the dance floor. Then they would begin seriously dating, they would graduate from Hogwarts, and then she would go to University while Ron worked to save up for an engagement ring. He would propose the day she graduated top of her class, they would have a year-long engagement while she worked an entry-level job in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within the Ministry of Magic, and after a year, they would get married. Then Ron would get a serious job and Hermione would work to the bone rising up through the ranks and, by age 25, she would obtain a high-ranking position before even thinking about kids. They would have two children, a girl and a boy, named Rose and Hugo respectively and they would grow old together, raise their children alongside Harry and Ginny (who had been her only confidante at the time and prime co-executor of The Plan) and see the kids off to Hogwarts together, then see them get married, see their grandchildren, then die at a ripe, old age, completely content.

The Plan was flawless! She couldn't see any reason it couldn't work. So she had waited patiently, acting as if she expected nothing. But she might as well have because Ron never asked her to the Yule Ball. The date of the event neared and never once in his and Harry's frantic scramble had either one of them considered her for a date. She had finally accepted the fact and simply took the first offer that had come. To her utmost surprise, it had been Viktor Krum and she had a wonderful time. And, to be honest, she had secretly enjoyed making Ron jealous. But then, of course, he had ruined the evening by saying such nasty and hateful things.

After that, Hermione had amended The Plan to exclude Ron. At that point, her future husband was faceless. She had briefly entertained the idea of Krum, but found that he fawned entirely too much. It became cloying and she decided that they were better off as long-distance friends.

Then Sixth Year came and Ron had been poisoned. Harry, Ginny, Lavender and Hermione had all visited him in the Hospital Wing. Imagine her surprise when it was Hermione's name he called out instead of his girlfriend's! Hermione! Hope had been restored and she began amending her plan to once again include Ron. Of course, considering that they were in the beginning stages of a war, the plan had to include Voldemort as well…unfortunately.

The Plan then proceeded without a hitch. Ron and Hermione helped Harry find and destroy all the Horcruxes (ignoring the fact that Ron abandoned them for a while), Voldemort was gone, all former Death Eaters got what they deserved, and Hermione was able to return to Hogwarts and complete her schooling. She had accomplished everything she wanted except for one thing: She had Ron still weren't married. Hell, he hadn't even begun to _hint_ at proposing!

Here she was, at twenty-three, in the absolute best shape she's ever been, moving quickly through the ranks in the MLE, well-connected, well-established financially, incredibly intelligent, yet she was laying face down on a silk throw pillow in her best friend's living room, crying anguished tears over the stupid man who was supposed to be the love of her life.

"I'm going to be an old maid!" she screamed into the pillow. That same infuriating chuckle came form the man standing above her.

"Hermione, stop being so melodramatic. You know that's not true." She finally looked up into the face of the man she had least expected would become one of her best friends.

"Draco, you live for melodramatics, so allow me this one concession for today."

Ah, yes. Draco Malfoy was one of Hermione Granger's best friends.

Ron and Hermione disagreed on many things. The treatment of house elves, his table manners, her unhealthy obsession with reading among a slew of other things were all sources of contention. But the main thing that they had constantly argued about was Malfoy.

The Malfoy family, in the eyes of the Ministry, defected from Voldemort's side during The Final Battle by choosing not to fight. Instead, they had run around the castle and grounds of Hogwarts trying to find each other. Both Harry and Hermione gave their testimonies at their trials, allowing their sentences to be reduced considerably. Harry had said that neither of the Malfoy men had identified the Trio to the Snatchers nor Bellatrix despite the several exchanges Lucius had had with all three of them and the fact that Draco had gone to school with them. He also testified that Narcissa had saved his life by lying straight to Voldemort's face and declared Harry dead, allowing for Harry to take Voldemort by surprise and ultimately kill him. When faced with the question of Draco's involvement in Dumbledore's murder, Harry revealed all that he had seen in Snape's memories and he even indulged to the Wizengamort the time he had found Draco crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Draco had scowled at that and had later said that he had preferred that the recounting of that incident hadn't been repeated. Ever.

Hermione had given the same story about being in the Malfoy's house, but added that Draco had refused to participate in torturing her despite his aunt's commands, something Harry did not know and felt even more solid in his resolve to help the Malfoys. She also included the story of how she, Harry and Ron had saved Draco and Goyle from the Fiendfyre in the Room of Hidden Things. She also made sure to mention that Draco had prevented Crabbe from killing Harry, though kept the part about reminding Crabbe that the Dark Lord wanted him alive, only so that he could be the one to eventually do the deed. Both this testimony and Harry's allowed Draco and Narcissa to be acquitted of all charges and were counted as Prisoners of War. Lucius was put on house arrest for one year with no magic and after that, only limited magic for another five years. After the trials, the Malfoys had approached Harry and Hermione and thanked them for testifying on their behalf despite the rocky history they shared. Draco, in particular, gave a very lengthy apology for the way he had treated them, all of them, including Ron, and offered up a fresh start. Harry and Hermione accepted and an awkward friendship formed.

Ron had not been happy about it. He could not understand why Harry and Hermione felt the need to help people who were never nice to them, especially Draco. Harry tried to calmly explain that everyone deserved a second chance, but Ron would not hear any of it. It just became worse when Hermione decided to go back to Hogwarts and found out that Draco was going as well. He had even threatened to end things if she went through with her plans to return to Hogwarts.

"_I don't want you going back, Hermione!" Ron had screamed._

"_Excuse me? Who do you think you are, telling me where I can and cannot go, Ronald Weasley?" she yelled back, fire in her eyes._

"_I'm your boyfriend! And while I was reluctant before, I sure don't want you to go now that the ferret is going!" His face had turned purple by this point._

"_Yes, Ron, you're my boyfriend, not my father! Draco or not, I'm going back."_

"_Of course I'm not your father. He's not here, is he? Gee, I wonder why that is, Hermione?"_

_**SMACK!**_

_As if it had been an automatic response, her hand had come up and slapped him smartly across the face. She felt no remorse because, even for Ron, that was completely uncalled for. He should have known that that was a sore subject. Her parents had yet to be located and Hermione grew more and more worried with each passing day. So, without missing a beat, she turned on her heel and left the Burrow and stayed with Harry at Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer. Ron had tried to talk to her, but she would lock herself in her room and put up a silencing charm so not to hear his whining._

"_He is sorry, you know," Harry commented quietly on her last night before leaving for Hogwarts. He came into her room as she was checking her trunk one last time._

"_I know," she said on a sigh. "But that still doesn't make it any better. 'Sorry' doesn't always fix everything, Harry." Harry sighed and lay back on Hermione's bed._

"_True, but all _Draco_ gave us was a handshake and an apology and we accepted it. Don't you think it's kind of hypocritical to accept Malfoy's apology at face value and then continue to be angry with Ron even though he's tried to apologize?" Hermione blushed at Harry's reasoning, realizing that he was right. She reached over and pinched his arm._

"_Ouch! What was that for?"_

"_For not telling me this sooner." Then she gave him a small peck on the forehead._

"_And that was for being so smart."_

Ron and Hermione had made up the next day when he showed up to see her to the train station. He had told her that he hadn't really meant what he had said and that even though he wasn't comfortable with the idea, he would continue to support her. She had thanked him and gave both Ron and Harry hugs and kisses goodbye and disappeared onto the train with Ginny. In normal circumstances, that would have been Hermione's seventh year and she would have been making her way to the Heads' compartment. But since the circumstance were anything but normal, it was Ginny who had made her way up, since she had been named Head Girl, and Hermione was left alone. After a short time, she heard a knock on the compartment door and was surprised to see Malfoy there. He had asked if he could sit with her as all the other compartments were either at capacity or filled with people who held the same opinion of the Malfoys as Ron. She had invited him in, burying her pity for the blond boy, as she somehow knew he would not have appreciated it.

They had talked, which started awkwardly at first, but as time passed, it became increasingly easy. She found Draco to be an excellent conversationalist and incredibly intelligent, though his past decisions had contradicted such a fact. They had debated, at times heatedly, only for him to crack a sarcastic joke and ease the tension. She found his dry humor enjoyable and by the end of the train ride, she even thought them to be actual friends. She shared her news with Ginny while watching the shortest sorting ever – three Gryffindors, four Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws and one Slytherin – and she had been glad for it, to Hermione's relief.

That night, Professor McGonagall had escorted the students who had returned for their "Eighth Year" to their new dormitories. They had no houses and no real class schedules. She had given them all Master Schedules of all Seventh Year classes and told them that they were allowed to sit in on any classes they wanted. Hermione imagined that it would be equivalent to auditing classes at the University level. The last instructions McGonagall had given them were to choose their suite partners. Instead of all the boys in one dorm and all the girls in another, the living quarters were separated into suites – two rooms connected to one bathroom – and then joined by a common living area. Once partners were chosen, that was who you were stuck with for the rest of the year. No trades. There were eight Eighth Years total. Beside Malfoy and Hermione, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, and Hannah Abbott had all returned to Hogwarts. Since the numbers were odd, they all drew straws to see which boy and girl would have to share a suite. As luck would have it, Draco and Hermione drew short.

After McGonagall gave them an awkward speech about how she trusted them to not take advantage of the situation and to keep things appropriate, she bade them all goodnight and left them to their own devices. Hermione had begun her nightly ritual by first laying out everything she would need for the next day. Next, she stripped off clothing, donned her robe, grabbed her toiletries and without thinking, entered the bathroom. The shower was already running and a fully naked Draco Malfoy was just stepping in. At the sound of the bathroom door closing, he looked up and froze mid-step as she, too, froze, probably looking like a fool with her eyes wide open in shock. Her traitorous eyes took a moment to peruse Draco's form and – By Merlin! – he had an amazing body. As soon as her gaze landed on his – er – well… "the good part," she clapped her hands over her eyes and sputtered out clumsy apologies before zipping out of the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Malfoy had knocked at her door and found her face down on her bed, still in her robe, cheeks beet read with mortification, but unable to stop thinking about Malfoy's sexy body. She sat up and managed to make a bathroom schedule that worked for both of them, all while never making eye contact. As he stood up to leave, she had believed herself to be in the clear until he turned back suddenly.

"_Oh, and Granger?" he had said._

"_What?" She grumbled back tiredly._

"_Nice rack." _

With that, he had quickly exited through the bathroom. It was then she realized that her robe had loosened and her breasts were very nearly about to pop out. But instead of being embarrassed, she had laughed it off and counted them almost even. It was at that moment, she had told him much later, that they had begun to be best friends.

"Okay, Hermione," Draco started, bringing Hermione out of her self-defeating musings. "You need to stop this. I've been telling you for years that you needed to ditch the Weasel. He doesn't deserve you." Hermione finally pulled her head from the pillows, her face blotchy and eyes bloodshot.

"He's been telling me to do the same to you for years," she stated calmly. "Am I to assume that you don't deserve me either?" She really meant it as a joke, so she was surprised with Draco's expression suddenly turned serious.

"Of course I don't deserve you, Hermione," he said quietly. "Least of all me, in fact." His words saddened her more than her break up, surprisingly, and she turned away from him.

"Maybe I'm the one who is not deserving of anyone."

"Please, Hermione, spare me the pity party." Hermione glared at him for his insensitivity, but he continued without pause. "Any bloke who comes near you is immediately intimidated by your strength and your pure character." Hermione was rendered speechless by his compliment. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was in front of her, gently taking her face in his hands to look her in the eyes.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "You just need to find someone equally as wonderful as you." Hermione tried to keep her breathing under control as he stared at her so intensely. It was in these moments that Hermione would suddenly be reminded of that first night back at Hogwarts. Images of his naked form flashed through her mind. For one fleeting moment, she wished that he thought himself to be deserving of her. She closed her eyes and cleared her throat, attempting to rid herself of the sudden dryness she felt there.

"So what do I do?" she practically whispered, not wanting to risk him hearing the huskiness of her voice. "How am I supposed to find someone like that?" Draco blinked and seemed to notice the position they found themselves in. He backed away and released her face, instead opting to sit beside her and swing a decidedly more platonic arm around her shoulders. Hermione briefly missed the intimacy before remembering that Draco was her friend, and nothing more.

"Well, Hermione, how do you expect to catch a fish if you don't cast your line?" Draco quipped, returning to his sarcastic, friendly, self, although she couldn't help but notice a bit of an edge to his tone.

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" Hermione asked back, rolling her eyes.

"I mean, Granger, that you need to put yourself out there. Mr. Right isn't going to just show up on your doorstep. You need to test the waters, go out with a male companion who isn't me, Harry or a weasel." Of course he was right. But she hadn't been on a date in an awfully long time. She couldn't even remember the last time Ron had taken her somewhere other than the Leaky Cauldron or a Cannons game. Wow, their relationship really was shite, wasn't it?

"But where will I find him? All the men I work with are either old enough to be my father or married. And, no offense, I'm not willing to do what you do and just pick up a random stranger from the pub. Judging by your stellar record, I don't believe I will find my soul mate that way." Draco's lip turned up at one corner in an amused smirk.

"You mean Candi didn't seem like the next Mrs. Malfoy to you?" Candi – "with an I" – was Draco's last arm accessory…er…girlfriend. She was as dull as dirt and dumber than a rock, but with those annoyingly perky breasts, legs a mile long and a face that made Hermione wish to go home and pull a paper bag over her head, it was obvious why Draco liked her. Or rather, why Draco didn't immediately kick her out of bed. And since they graduated from Hogwarts, every girl Draco dated seemed to look and act the same. Hermione joked that he bought them out of a factory.

"You seem to like that sort of girl, Draco. I don't see why she couldn't be," Hermione joked back with no malice at all. She believed her statement to be completely true, and while she wished better for her friend, the heart wants what it wants.

"Of course that kind of girl is good for shagging, Hermione," he said back. "But, believe it or not, when I'm finally ready to settle down, I actually want a woman of more substance. Someone who is beautiful inside and out." Hermione smiled.

"Good, Draco. Because, I swear, if you marry and procreate with Candi, I refuse to be godmother to your intellectually stunted children, no matter how beautiful they are." Draco rolled his eyes.

"I promise, Hermione, that when the time comes for me to feel the desire to settle down, I will require that all candidates first pass your approval, deal?"

"Deal," she replied back, laughing.

"Now that that's settled, let's get back to your problem."

"I hardly think that me being single is a problem."

"Well, no, it's not. But you've always wanted to be married and thinking about kids by the time you were 25. You're turning 24 this year, Hermione, and if you want your year-long engagement, you need to find the perfect man, fall in love, and get engaged within the next five months." Hermione looked at Draco strangely. Almost verbatim, that was what The Plan entailed. And she hadn't talked about that with him since…Hogwarts.

"How did you remember all that?"

"Remember what? Your Plan?" Hermione nodded. "Well, you told it to me in excruciating detail. And, well, when you were telling me about it…in those circumstances, I mean…" Draco trailed off. Hermione knew exactly the moment she told him about The Plan and immediately pushed the memory away. They promised they wouldn't talk about that moment ever again and for good reason. Hermione suddenly started to feel overheated, being pressed up against his side in such a way and scooted away to the other side of the sofa. Draco allowed his arm to fall to his side and they both said nothing for a while, avoiding eye contact.

"Well," Hermione said, finally breaking the awkward silence. "What do you suggest I do?" Draco blinked at her, seeming to have forgotten their topic of discussion.

"Do about what?" he asked dumbly. Hermione rolled her eyes, just for show, because she certainly understood his sudden absentmindedness. She was having a bit of trouble focusing herself.

"What do you suggest I do about finding my Mr. Right, Malfoy? Pay attention." Draco finally shook himself out of his daze and smirked.

"You mean you need a Plan B?" Hermione groaned.

"Yes, while incredibly cheesy and I can't believe you actually went for it, I need a Plan B." Draco's smirk grew, which disconcerted Hermione a bit.

"So, Hermione. How do you feel about blind dates?"

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

Twelve hours later, Hermione was already regretting having gone to Draco with her problems.

Draco Malfoy, for all of his class and proper Pureblood upbringing, was a horrible gossip.

Not a full day after she had left his flat after having unloaded her woes onto her best friend, Ginny came barreling through the floo.

"My brother is a prat, Hermione," Ginny said upon landing.

"Well, hello to you, too, Mrs. Potter," Hermione greeted back, amused.

"Yeah, hi," Ginny replied, off-handedly. She moved quickly about the flat, preparing breakfast and coffee with the distracted preciseness that only a mother and a Weasley woman could possibly possess. "What are you still doing in your pajamas, Hermione? It's nearly ten!" Hermione looked down at her old, ratty, flannel pajamas then looked back at Ginny bemusedly.

"Well, it's Sunday, Gin. I was having a bit of a lie in, I suppose, like most other people on Sunday morning." Ginny shook her head violently, thrust a hot mug of black coffee into Hermione's hand, and pushed her down the hallway and into her bedroom.

"Not today you aren't. Malfoy told me all about your plan and I think it's brilliant. But we need to go shopping so scoot your bum back into that room and dress into something decent."

"What are you talking about? What plan?" Hermione took a sip of her coffee in the hopes that the caffeine would allow for Ginny to start making sense.

"Why, your plan to start dating again, of course! I already know of someone who'd be perfect for you!" Ginny spoke rapidly as she leafed through Hermione's closest. "You remember Seamus Finnegan, yes? After the war he sort of disappeared into the Muggle world, opting to stay with his Dad for a bit. Well, now he's back and I ran into him at the Prophet."

Ginny Potter, nee Weasley, after a successful career as a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, was a reporter for the Daily Prophet. She had started out as a junior staff writer, reporting on the occasional Quidditch game in her retirement. But it seemed that the general public loved her work, often writing to the editor about how they enjoyed her colorful commentary. She had eventually worked her way up and was now the Senior Editor for the Games and Sports section of Wizarding England's most read publication.

"What was Seamus doing at the Daily Prophet headquarters?" Hermione asked, returning back to their conversation, albeit reluctantly.

"He was actually looking for a job. He said he had always wanted to go into journalism and the samples he showed me were quite good. He has a no-nonsense way of reporting that states facts without showing any bias at all, which is something the paper needs after finally having rid itself of that parasite, Rita. Anyway, so we were talking and he was asking about everyone and I told him how they were all doing. And then…" Ginny trailed off with that smug smile on her face. Hermione knew she was doing it to pique interest, but to be honest, all Hermione wanted was for Ginny to leave so she could curl back up into her bed.

"Then, what, Gin?" Hermione sighed. She might as well play along. Maybe that way she'd disappear faster.

"Then he asked about you. Seemed sort of nervous about it, actually. So I told him that you were well, a big shot in the MLE and all that."

"Gin…you did not…I'm hardly…"

"And then," Ginny continued, talking over Hermione's modest protests. "He asked if you were still with Ron and I told him that you were very single and gave him your mobile number. So he should be calling very soon, which is why we need to go shopping!"

"Ginny," Hermione groaned. "Isn't the whole point of blind dating not knowing who you're going with? Now I'll feel even more self-conscious."

"So what? Who said that all your dates had to be anonymous? Besides, wouldn't this be more comfortable for you? I mean, you've been with my idiot brother for so long and I figure that if you're going to put yourself back out there, you might as well start off slow. Going on a blind date after having been a relationship so long would be quite like jumping head first into ice cold water and then realizing you've forgotten how to swim, wouldn't it?"

Hermione grew dizzy with Ginny's fast talk, but realized that she was right. Sighing heavily, she resigned herself to this new Plan. "Plan B," she recalled with a smirk, reminding herself to pinch Draco for being such a horrible gossip queen.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

Two weeks had passed and she still hadn't been on a single date, blind or otherwise. She had received calls from Seamus, who had seemed quite eager to meet with her, but for some unfathomable reason, she couldn't bring herself to make herself available. She knew that she was running out of time and that she couldn't put him off forever. Ginny was starting to get really annoyed and although Hermione understood her irritation, she also felt that it really wasn't Ginny's business.

"Why does everyone feel that I need to be with someone?" she mused aloud, a scowl on her face, as she angrily signed her name on yet another boring report on yet another boring case. Since the fall of Voldemort and the capture of the last remaining Death Eaters, things have been quite slow around the MLE. The crime rate was at an all time low and the most exciting case she had received within the last year had been some crazy old warlock who decided to fly his broom around a Muggle neighborhood completely starkers.

"Well, the fact that you are currently having a conversation with yourself might be one clue." Hermione looked up from her desk, startled by the sudden interruption of her solitude.

Draco stood, leaning against the doorframe, looking every bit the confident, self-aware, aristocrat that he was. She also couldn't help the wayward thought that he also looked incredibly sexy standing there with that damn smirk on his face. She sighed and hoped that it sounded exasperated and not wistful.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. How may I help you?" she asked dryly.

"Why, Ms. Granger. Can't I simply visit an old friend? I was in the neighborhood." Hermione rolled her eyes and motioned for him to come in. Draco's smirk softened into a boyish smile as he closed the door behind him and Hermione couldn't help but smile back. She loathed admitting it, but that boyish smile was completely disarming.

"So, how's old Finnegan doing? Shag him rotten yet?" Draco asked without any preamble.

"Draco!" Hermione could feel her face heat up in embarrassment. She wasn't exactly a prude, but talking about any sort of sexual activity always made her uncomfortable. Draco knew this, which was perhaps the whole reason he constantly brought it up. The devilish smirk that was currently spread across his impossibly attractive face was evidence of this fact. Hermione's fingers itched to slap that look off her face.

"For your information," she huffed, "I haven't even gone out with him, yet." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for Granger? What if Finnegan's your Plan B? You can make cute little bushy-haired, eyebrow-less babies with a high tolerance for whiskey and a low tolerance for gin." Hermione's face burned as she thought of _that one night_.

"First of all, I thought we agreed that we were NEVER going to talk about that again. And, excuse me, Malfoy, if I don't just jump into bed with any bloke I see. I'm not like you, you know." Draco actually looked affronted at her statement.

"Excuse _me_, Granger, but I do not just jump into bed with any girl I see. I do have standards, you know."

"Yes, yes, you're right. You do have standards. They're set quite low, in my opinion, but you do have them."

"To right," he huffed back petulantly. Hermione shook her head at his childish antics. While his inability to act like a mature adult vexed her at times, it was quite welcome today as it lightened her mood.

"So did you have any real reason for coming to see me or did you just want to annoy me today?" she asked distractedly as she signed her name at the bottom of another report.

"Well, actually, I wanted to know if you had eaten yet. I was thinking we could grab lunch. I took a half day today."

"Considering you don't really work, Draco, I don't see how it's possible for you to take a half day. That aside, yes, lunch sounds good."

"Great. Let's go." Hermione put down her boring reports and grabbed her purse. Draco stood by the door, waiting expectantly with her coat. Hermione gave him a small smile. Underneath all his depravity, rudeness and arrogance, he was still a gentleman. She allowed him to help her with her coat and was surprised when he gently pulled her hair out from under the collar. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a blush begin to creep up her cheeks, which only grew brighter as they walked out of her office, his hand at the small of her back. His behavior wasn't any different from how he normally was, but somehow, it seemed more…intimate seemed so wrong to say, but she couldn't think of a more appropriate word.

They walked to the lifts in companionable silence. They greeted co-workers and acquaintances as they passed, but other than that, said nothing else. They boarded the lift that would take them to the Atrium and as soon as the doors closed, Hermione felt that the temperature had risen about ten degrees.

"Wow, is it just me or did it suddenly become warmer in here?" she asked. Draco turned to her with a lascivious grin.

"It's not you, it's me." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully at Hermione, at which she immediately rolled her eyes.

"Prat." Draco snickered at her comment. "But seriously, it's very warm." She removed her coat, and when that wasn't enough, she unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse and pulled it away from her chest.

"No, I agree, it is quite warm," Draco croaked out. Hermione gave him a strange look.

"Are you all right? You sound funny." Draco was looking straight ahead and had a strange look on his face. Perspiration was beginning to bead at his temples and Hermione reached up to wipe it away with her fingers. Draco flinched as her fingers neared his skin.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hermione frowned at his reaction.

"Nothing. I just noticed you've begun to sweat and I was going to wipe it away."

"No, that's not necessary." Draco pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief (probably silk, Hermione thought with a mental roll of her eyes) and dabbed at his face. "Besides, Malfoys don't sweat." This time, Hermione rolled her eyes for real.

"Oh, is that so? What do you call this then?" And before he could shirk away from her touch again, she caught a bead of sweat on the tips of her fingers. But with his quick, Seeker reflexes, Draco caught her hand and pulled her so close, they were almost nose-to-nose. Hermione's breath caught in her chest and she looked straight into his grey eyes. As she stared, his eyes grew darker, like storm clouds rolling in before the downpour. It seemed like an eternity they stood like that, stormy grey meeting golden-brown. Draco began to lean forward and Hermione's eyes automatically began to flutter closed. She felt just a whisper of his lips against hers when suddenly, the lift jerked to a stop.

"The Atrium," the disembodied voice chirped as the doors slid open with a happy _ding!_ Hermione and Draco pulled apart so quickly; it was as if they had been hit with lightening. _What was _that_?_ Hermione thought to herself. She cleared her suddenly dry throat and turned back to Draco, who had reverted back to his arrogant self.

"After you, Granger," he said quietly, motioning towards the door with a graceful sweep of his hand. Hermione nodded, unable to say anything and led the way out.

"So," Draco said, breaking the awkward silence, hands in his pockets, jingling his change around. Hermione gave him a puzzled look. She knew that it was one of his tells for when he was nervous or anxious. What did he have to be nervous about? So they almost kissed in the elevator…so what? It wasn't as if they hadn't…

Hermione blushed and shook her head, dislodging that errant memory. _No_. She wasn't going to think about that.

"Granger!" Draco's shout interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"I was trying to ask you what you felt like eating." Hermione shrugged nonchalantly, even though inside, she was a confused mess. But despite her puzzlement over what just happened, or almost happened in the elevator, she needed to act normal. If he was going to pretend like it didn't happen, so was she. It was what they did, after all.

"The Leaky is fine," she answered breezily. "I've been meaning to say hello to Hannah, anyway." Tom, the former manager and landlord of The Leaky Cauldron, never recovered from injuries sustained during the War and had put the pub up for sale. Hannah, having come into a sizeable inheritance around the same time, bought the place and was now running the pub quite successfully. It was a popular spot for the Aurors, especially. Neville Longbottom was seen there quite frequently, attempting to flirt with the Leaky's landlady, who seemed oblivious to his attempts. Hermione and Draco often lunched there, chatting amiably with Hannah, who had become a dear friend to Hermione in the past few years, lending a sympathetic ear all the times Hermione came in crying about Ron when Draco wasn't available.

"Hermione! Malfoy!" Hermione smiled at her friend, who waved them over to their usual table.

"You're just in luck," Hannah said with a smile. "I was just finished cleaning your table up."

"Thanks, Hannah!" Hannah rushed off to get their usual drinks as they sat down. Hermione blushed as Draco pulled her chair out and gently pushed her chair in as she lowered herself onto it. Again, he wasn't acting any differently than usual, but after their interlude in the elevator, all his actions seemed more…just more. But refusing to overanalyze it, she settled into her seat and smiled at him, as if it was just another day with her best friend.

"So, what have you been up to today?" And it seemed that with that simple question, everything was back to normal. Draco went into a humorous account of his day, which included a few embellishments here and there, Hermione was sure, but he wouldn't be Draco Malfoy if he didn't go a little over the top. Hermione laughed in all the right places and kept up with his witty repartee as they ate; Hermione a simple chicken salad and the soup du jour, Draco a roast beef sandwich and chips. After a bit, Draco excused himself to go to the men's room and Hannah took that opportunity to have a break.

"So, Hermione, how's the single life?" Hermione groaned.

"Have you been talking to Ginny?" Hannah laughed.

"Yes, she was just in here the other day, going on and on about how you should really find a man who will just '_do you right_'." By the telling wag of Hannah's eyebrows, Hermione rolled her eyes at the double entendre.

"First of all, I get by just fine. Secondly, why does everyone feel that they need to give their input about my love life?" Hannah's eyes softened.

"We just care, Hermione. We all just want to see you happy. You do so much for everyone else. It's about time you do something for you." Hermione looked down at the table and absently traced the wood-grain on the table, trying not to cry.

"Hannah, I'm touched, but it really isn't anyone's business but my own."

"Of course, Hermione. But hey, if you're interested, I have a cousin that you might want to meet. He's a few years older than us, but I think you'll get along fine."

"Oh?" Hermione wasn't really interested, but Hannah was right. Maybe it was high time that Hermione did something for herself. She'll give blind dating a shot. "What's is name?" Hannah's eyes brightened, obviously please that Hermione seemed even a little interested.

"His name is Michael. He takes care of some of the publicity for the Irish National Quidditch Team." Hermione was a little skeptical at the mention of Quidditch. What could they possibly have in common? Hannah seemed to read her look because she chuckled and continued to explain.

"He's very smart, however. He loves to read, just like you. And despite the fact that he works in the industry, he doesn't actually play Quidditch. Scared of heights, actually. But he loves watching it, as any bloke does, and this seemed the best way to be close to the game." Hermione nodded, taking it all in.

"I guess I could give it a try, the whole blind date thing. Your cousin sounds nice enough." Hannah nodded.

"I've already told him I'd talk to him about you and he seems interested. I suppose it's really only a blind date on your side since anyone who hasn't been living under a rock knows Hermione Granger." Hermione blushed. Like Harry, she wasn't very comfortable with her sudden fame. Ron, however, loved it. She supposed it was because he was often overlooked as the youngest boy out of seven children. Often, though, he let it get to his head, which irritated Hermione to no end.

"Yes, please, Hannah. Let him know that I would be interested in an outing or dinner or…whatever. I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to call it."

"Two potential dates, Granger? I'm impressed." Hermione spun around to face Draco, feeling a bit like she had been caught doing something she oughtn't. Which was ridiculous, of course. She was single and they had already discussed that she should test the waters, go on a few dates, find her Mr. Right.

Draco pulled up an extra chair next to Hermione's, as Hannah was currently occupying his, and casually draped his arms around her shoulders, across the back of her own chair. Hermione blatantly ignored the goose bumps that rose where Draco's arm touched her.

"So, who is lucky contestant number two?" Draco said with a sardonic smirk.

"My cousin, Michael," Hannah answered, and went into the entire spiel again about how he does publicity for the Irish Quidditch team and his love for books.

"Sounds perfect for Hermione. In fact, he sounds almost like a male version of you, Granger." Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Behave, Malfoy. This is your plan, remember?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, Plan B. I remember. So when are you going to see this bloke?"

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

One week later, Hermione found herself fidgeting nervously at a table at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, pulling down on the hem of her impossibly short skirt without much success. Damn Ginny for forcing this outfit on her! Not only did Hermione feel like a tart in this too-tight skirt and top, but also it was abnormally chilly for May and she hadn't brought a coat. Hermione sighed as she failed, again, to force the skirt to cover more of her exposed skin. She supposed she couldn't really blame Ginny; it was Hermione's fault for telling Ginny about the blind date in the first place. Ginny had squealed like a giddy schoolgirl and pulled Hermione out the door without warning, side-Apparating her to a random alley before dragging her into some fancy boutique. She had piled Hermione's arms with clothes that Hermione never would have chosen for herself, but at the time, was feeling brave enough to try them on.

Now, though, Hermione felt completely overexposed and out of her element. On top of that, Michael was late. They had arranged to meet at seven at The Three Broomsticks, yet it was now 7:15 and he had yet to show. Part of Hermione was hoping that he would flake so she wouldn't have to go through with what was sure to be a disastrous date. Hermione had no idea how to date. She and Ron had known each other since they had been eleven years old. Being with Ron had taken all the guesswork out of dating. She already knew what Ron liked and disliked, had met the family and was welcomed with open arms. Being with Ron was easy.

So this was entirely new. In fact, it was downright terrifying. What if they didn't have anything in common? What would they talk about? What if he had bad breath? What if she had bad breath? She checked to make sure and was satisfied that it did not smell.

She took a sip of her water and checked her watch again. 7:25. He wasn't coming. Without any remorse or regret, she gathered up her things, bid goodbye to Madam Rosmerta, who simply waved back with a pitied look on her face, and Apparated to the first place she could think of.

"You're lucky I wasn't entertaining, Granger." Hermione rolled her eyes and continued on to Draco's kitchen.

"Please. When was the last time you brought a woman here?" Draco raised an eyebrow at her as she went straight to his liquor cabinet and poured herself two fingers of firewhiskey.

"I take it the date didn't go well?" Hermione took a large sip of her drink before sitting heavily onto a barstool.

"He stood me up," she stated dryly. Draco's eyes shot up.

"What a prick!" The vehemence with which Draco made his statement surprised Hermione. However, she simply shrugged.

"Oh well. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Maybe I'm not meant to be with anyone." Draco rolled his eyes and refilled Hermione's glass.

"Please, Hermione. You've too much intelligence not to procreate and share your vast knowledge. As it is, it's already taking up entirely too much space in your brain." Hermione gave him an amused grin.

"Oh really? How do you figure?"

"Well, you've obviously stored up so much useless information that you fail to see how brilliant you are." Hermione fought her urge to blush and raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"Whereas you have that part of your brain completely in tact." Draco gave her a smirk.

"But of course." Hermione rolled her eyes again.

"Careful, Granger," Draco warned, "Your eyes could get stuck like that."

"Well, then if you're so worried about it, stop making me have to." Draco motioned towards the sofa and they both moved to sit.

Hermione gave a slight smile before settling down, once again, against his silk throw pillows on his impossibly soft sofa. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, smiling contentedly.

"I could easily fall asleep here, Malfoy."

"Of course. And you have." Hermione opened her eyes and sat up before taking her drink back from Draco and taking another large sip.

"So, Granger, tell me what happened." Hermione sighed and rested her feet in his lap before beginning.

"We had arranged to meet at The Three Broomsticks—"

"Awful place for a first date," Draco cut in. Hermione rolled her eyes, again.

"We had arranged to meet at seven. I had come straight home from work and rushed to get ready, even allowed Ginny to put me in this ridiculous outfit and do my hair and make-up." Hermione motioned to herself and Draco looked her over. And even as she knew that she had inadvertently invited the perusal and he only gave a cursory glance, she still felt odd as his eyes quickly traveled up and down her over-exposed form; she wasn't exactly sure if it was a good odd or bad.

"You look nice," he said softly. She couldn't help but blush.

"Er…thank you, Draco." He gave a small nod, motioning for her to continue.

"Anyway, so I get to the place and even arrived a whole two minutes late, like Ginny suggested, so as not to seem to eager." Draco made a sound that was suspiciously close to a snort, if she didn't think that he was too refined for such a noise.

"Wow, Granger, a whole two minutes? That must have killed you." Hermione threw a pillow at his perfectly coiffed hair, which elicited an indignant protest from her friend.

"_Anyway_…So I sat down and told Rosmerta that I was waiting for someone. I was sitting there for about twenty minutes before I decided that he wasn't coming. So then I gathered my things and came here."

"Riveting, Granger," Draco said with an over-exaggerated yawn.

"Well, you asked, Malfoy. Anyway, I don't think I was ready to go on a blind date, anyway."

"Granger, that's what you said about Finnegan. And you know him." Hermione knew how ridiculous she was being, but was it such a crime to want to feel ready to date again? She just dumped Ron, the supposed love of her life. Was it so bad that she wanted to just take some time to be single for a while?

"Well, maybe that's the problem," Hermione finally answered with a shrug. "Maybe I know him too well. He was a Gryffindor, too. Too close to Ron, maybe." Draco sat up abruptly and snapped his fingers.

"That's it!"

"What's it?" Hermione asked dumbly, having sunk back into the comfort of the sofa.

"You don't need a blind date, you need to go out with someone you know. But not someone you know well. Maybe more of an acquaintance. Someone you know well enough to feel comfortable with, but not with someone that will remind you of Weasel." Draco had begun pacing around the living room, his forehead creased as he began to brainstorm.

"Have someone in mind, Draco?" Hermione asked, chuckling. Draco stopped, still in deep thought.

"Maybe," he answered back distractedly. Hermione groaned.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

Four nights later, Hermione was storming back up to Draco's door.

"Malfoy! Open this damn door!" She lifted her fist to pound on the door of his flat. Upon the third knock, a disgruntled Draco swung open the door.

"What's up your bum, Granger?" He gave her a cursory look as she impatiently tapped her foot waiting for him to invite her in.

She knew that she must look a sight. Ginny dressed her again, this time in a form-fitting black dress that Hermione swore made her look fat. The dress also had no back and did not allow for a bra, and made Hermione feel like a tart. And judging by the way her date couldn't keep himself from pawing at her, the clothes had done their job. But it was said date that had her fuming now. So here she was, her hair a frizzy mess due to the angry static running through it, her heels in her had as she had walked all the way to Draco's flat, having forgotten her wand at home.

"Well, are you just going to stand there ogling me all night or are you going to let me in?" Draco wordlessly stood aside and ushered her inside with a mocking bow and a sweep of his hand. Hermione scowled at him and threw herself onto the sofa, not caring that her dress had ridden dangerously high up her legs. Draco had seen her in worse, she was sure.

"I can't believe you set me up with that…that…" She growled in frustration, unable to form words to describe her date with Blaise Zabini.

Draco had set the date up following the brush-off by Michael the Flake. He had been thoroughly convinced that Hermione would feel much better if she went on a date with someone she knew, but not with someone who was so close to Ron.

"Trust me," he had said. She had been skeptical, but agreed to see Blaise. She didn't expect that he would be Mr. Right, anyway, and it wouldn't hurt to have dinner and a drink with an old acquaintance, right?

They had agreed that Blaise would pick Hermione up at her flat and then he would side-Apparate her to the restaurant. Hermione felt a little more relaxed, thinking that Blaise was a gentleman for wanting to pick her up instead of asking her to meet him at the restaurant. Oh, that pureblood upbringing was good for some things, she supposed.

He had arrived promptly at 7:30, which Hermione appreciated and he complimented her on her outfit, which made her blush, even though the lusty look in his eyes made her a bit uneasy. He held her close when side-Apparating, which Hermione didn't think too odd, but gave a protesting squeak when his hands ventured a little too low on her back.

She managed to untangle herself from his grasp as soon as their feet touched solid ground and pretended that she was straightening out her dress and hair. They sat down and Blaise had immediately pulled his chair around so that they were sitting side-by-side instead of across from each other. There was no way he could have known that Hermione absolutely hated sitting in such a way because she preferred being able to see her partner eye-to-eye when speaking to him, so she brushed aside his mistake. He ordered for her, which irked her, but again, he didn't know her well, so she let this slide also. As they ate, he barely let her get a word in edgewise, constantly talking about himself and his accomplishments and trying to turn everything into a double innuendo. It was halfway through the main course, however, that Hermione could take no more. He began to trail his fingers up her exposed leg and did not desist even as Hermione politely asked for him to stop. He leaned in for an unwanted kiss and that was when Hermione stood abruptly and left.

"He kissed you?" Draco asked, surprised, as Hermione finished her account of the evening.

"He attempted to, but did not succeed." Was it just her, or did Draco looked relieved at that bit of news? Hermione shrugged it off and then remembered that this was all Draco's fault. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking setting me up with him, Draco?" Draco shrugged and had the decency to look a little abashed.

"I honestly didn't think that he would act that way. He's usually so reserved. I've never been on a date with him, Hermione. I had no idea. Although it's now starting to make sense why he's never able to keep a girl." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I give up," she sighed.

"Oh, come on, Granger, you can't give up," Draco said, plopping down next to her.

"And why not? I've attempted to go on two dates and both have turned out badly. Stood up, manhandled…I can't even begin to think what would happen if I actually agreed to go out with Seamus."

"Well, you'll never know unless you try, Granger. Anyway, why don't we go out? It's still early yet and you're already dressed." Hermione grumbled and sat up, attempting to tame her wild hair.

"I don't really feel up to it, Draco. I feel like shite."

"Well, you may feel like shite, but you look wonderful. So let's go out. Live a little Granger." Hermione blushed deeply. She never got used to taking compliments from Draco, as they were so rare. Although lately, he seemed to be more generous giving them. She couldn't help the warm feeling that radiated through her body at his words and vehemently reminded herself that Draco was her strictly platonic friend. Nothing more could ever happen between them.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable. She was so confused. Everything was going so wrong. First her plans went to muck because she had foolishly placed her heart in Ronald Weasley's hands. And then he had crushed it. He had been part of every dream she had and with every choice she had made, she had kept him and his interests in mind. Even in a very brief, dark time when she had begun to doubt her choice, she fought to suppress her attraction to Draco because she never believed that he would ever feel the same way. Ron was safe, Ron loved her in his own, stubborn way, Ron has been there for her longer than Draco had. So she stuck with him, trying to convince herself that she had made the right decision. To find that she suddenly had to build new dreams and suffer the ramifications of making choices for someone else, she now felt lost. As if her life had suddenly lost purpose and she was floundering, trying to form new paths in life. To make things worse, she had invested herself whole-heartedly into a relationship that was apparently one-sided.

"Ron cheated on me," she blurted out. She hadn't told Draco, until now, why she had finally broken things off with Ron and he had been gracious enough to refrain from asking. Draco cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with her outburst.

"With whom?" Draco asked, his voice soft. Hermione let out a derisive and humorless laugh.

"Which time?" Draco's eyebrows shot up at that statement.

"All those time I broke up with him…he was cheating on me. With everyone. Lavender Brown quite a few times, some barmaid that had been working at the Leaky Cauldron, a few random girls he had met in pubs and such, once I had even found him with Cho Chang." She risked a glance at Draco's face and was met with a stony look. He looked both livid and disgusted. She knew it wasn't, but she felt that the disgust was for her. How could Hermione Granger, the Heroine of the Second Voldemort War, have let that go on for so long? It was the same question she asked herself day after day. But the truth was very simple. She had loved Ron.

And finding out that Ron had been less than faithful almost the entire time they had been together made Hermione feel as if the last five years had been a complete and total waste. It also made her feel like less than a woman. And just when she felt that she was finally ready to pick up the pieces of her heart and move on, it seemed the world was working against her. Wasn't that just icing on top of a shit cake? That thought seemed to be her breaking point and she finally began to cry.

In an instant, Draco had pulled her to his chest and let her tears soak his silk shirt.

Silk again.

And, like before, knowing that she was now ruining it made her feel marginally better.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

She woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and her mouth feeling like cotton. She tried opening her eyes and immediately regretted it as she was instantly blinded by the little bit of sunlight that somehow snuck through the blackout blinds Draco had placed over the windows in his bedroom. She quickly sobered at that realization and sat straight up in bed. Although her head was pounding and she felt as if she would vomit, she took careful stock of her appearance and surroundings. Her clothes were still on, stain and vomit free, although her hair was a mess. She put her hands over her eyes trying to piece together the night before.

_Blaise…_

_The horrible date…_

_Coming to Draco's…_

_Being angry with Draco…_

_Crying…_

_Firewhiskey…_

_More firewhiskey…_

_MUCH more firewhiskey…_

_Muggle karaoke?_

After having revealed the reason for her and Ron's break-up, and her subsequent crying fit, Draco had brought out a bottle of Ogden's Finest and distracted her with alcohol and hilarious anecdotes about the crazy things women did to get a rich man's – i.e. Draco's – attention. He was in the middle of telling her about how he and his latest distraction – er – girlfriend – had ended when she suddenly had the crazy idea to go to a Muggle karaoke bar.

At that point in time, they were both on a pretty good buzz having worked through almost the entirety of Draco's bottle and anything seemed like a good idea. Hermione navigated through Muggle London, dragging an unusually complacent Draco by the hand and they finally made it to a slightly dingy looking establishment with the word "KARAOKE" blazing bright in its window in pink neon. Draco bought more drinks, Hermione sang a couple of drunken renditions of Queen's greatest hits, Draco laughed at her antics and they finally left after closing.

It was there that Hermione began to grow hazy, but she assumed it wasn't important since she had ended up alone, in bed, fully dressed, in a house that she could probably consider her second home. And although the night had started out terribly, she figured that it hadn't turned out so bad, all things considered. Satisfied with her conclusions, she gingerly moved out of bed and padded over to the adjoined master bathroom. She nearly screamed at the state of her make-up and hair and her dress that had somehow twisted backwards in her sleep. Scowling, she peeled off the offending garment, washed her face, attempted to manage her hair, and exited the bathroom in just her knickers, fully intending on stealing some of Draco's clothes to wear.

She rummaged through his bureau, searching for a plain, inexpensive, completely replaceable, cotton t-shirt; in the case that she did, in fact, vomit this morning, she wanted to be sure that she wouldn't ruin something she couldn't afford to replace.

She had just located a shirt that looked as if it had seen better days when the creak of the door made her suddenly look up, clothing still hanging loosely in her hand. Draco walked in, carrying a tray of what seemed to be a delicious smelling breakfast and stopped dead, nearly dropping the tray, at the sight of Hermione in such a state of undress.

Hermione froze and they both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Hermione knew that she should really try for some modesty and cover up with the now forgotten shirt. But Draco was now scanning her body, just she had done to him all those years ago, and dark look came over his usually expressionless face. Far from making her uncomfortable, she felt herself tightening in places she hadn't felt tighten in a very long time. Her skin began to grow warm and tingly, her breath coming out in small pants. His eyes finally met hers again. She gasped at the intensity she found there and she just knew that hers reflected the same. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly set the tray down on the bed and began taking small steps towards her. In some part of her brain, she registered that he was currently approaching her as one would a scared animal, but at the moment, she couldn't really give a rat's arse. She was _feeling things_. Things she hadn't felt in a very long time and it was overwhelming. She stood still, allowing him to come just within arms reach and she really did feel an urge to reach him.

It seemed that he had been reading her mind because at that instant, he suddenly grabbed her, crushing her body against his, but meeting her lips with a gentleness that was so at odds with the rest of his body language. Her eyes immediately fluttered closed and her body relaxed at the sensation of his soft lips working over her own. She didn't know why this was happening, knew on some level that this couldn't end well, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away. He felt so good, so right. _But this is Draco, _her rational side began to berate her. _He's your best friend! _Unfortunately, she was right. Draco was her best friend. Ron had been her best friend and look how terribly _that_ turned out. Reluctantly, she pulled away and gently pushed her hands against his chest, creating a bit more distance. She watched as the lust in Draco's eyes slowly dissipated. He closed them briefly and when he opened them again, she couldn't tell what he was thinking. She surprised herself with how much that fact bothered her. He took a few more steps away from her before turning his back to her and stooping down to pick up the forgotten breakfast tray. She took the opportunity to hurriedly don the t-shirt that had fallen to the floor during their brief interlude.

"I made you breakfast," he said gently as he turned around, looking anywhere but at her.

"Thank you," she said, equally as quiet. _Wow…awkward…_

"I meant to wake you up with it…you know, breakfast in bed," he said, with a bit more humor in his voice. Hermione smiled goofily, recalling a past conversation where they had discussed romantic gestures and which ones were the most ridiculous.

"_Breakfast in bed," she had stated with a roll of her eyes. Draco had let out a loud bark of laughter at that, which had surprised Hermione at the time. It had been the first time she had ever heard him really laugh._

"_Hermione Granger, you have got to be the strangest woman I know! How could you not like breakfast in bed? Even I like having breakfast served to me in bed!" Hermione had winced._

"_Just imagining all those crumbs getting into the place where you sleep at night. You never know where that food will end up or what will crawl in with you as a result." Draco had rolled his eyes._

"_I stand corrected, Granger. You and Weasley are perfect for each other; between the two of you, there isn't a single notion of romanticism." Hermione had then laughed at his misuse of the word and went on to explain the true meaning, which had literally bored Draco to sleep._

_And upon waking, he found a breakfast tray next to his bed under a stasis charm with a note that simply said, "Have fun with the ants you'll soon be sharing your bed with. –H"_

Thinking back, she recalled the brief feeling of hurt when Draco had said that she wasn't romantic. But she brushed the memory aside, especially after…well, whatever _that_ was, and she was getting very tired of all these unidentifiable exchanges she was having with her best friend.

Instead of dwelling on the unknown, though, she simply turned down the covers and climbed back into bed. Draco paused, looking contemplative, before lowering himself onto the bed, on top on the covers. Hermione smiled at the propriety he was exhibiting, even as she thought it strange after the explosive kiss they had just shared.

_Oh no, Hermione. Don't think about that right now._

Conversation started awkwardly, but they managed to get past it and return back to their familiar banter, reverting back to their self-preservation mechanism of sweeping everything under the rug. Hermione knew it wasn't healthy, but she valued their friendship more than she ever thought she would. She was beginning to think that his friendship meant more to her than Ron's had.

Quickly trying to divert her dangerous thoughts, she grabbed the television remote and flicked it on, surfing through the channels. It still amused her that Draco had given in and bought himself a very Muggle television set. They watched some telly, not really paying attention to what was on, and continuing their breakfast as if their kiss had never happened.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

Later than afternoon, Hermione was just finished showering, donning the t-shirt she had filched from Draco and a pair of terry cloth shorts, when Ginny came barreling through the Floo without any warning. Hermione's combat training kicked in and she dropped to a crouch.

"Hermione Granger!" Ginny hollered. Hermione sighed and straightened up.

"Ginny, a little warning would be nice. What if I had thought you to be an intruder?" Ginny waved her hand around as if brushing her words aside.

"Well I wasn't and I'm still in one piece. But what I want to know is why you still haven't called Seamus!" Hermione sighed again as dropped herself onto her sofa.

"I don't know, Gin. It just doesn't seem…right."

It wasn't that Seamus was a bad bloke. In all honesty, she had found him sort of endearing back in their Hogwarts days. He was brash, sure, but he also had a wicked sense of humor. And she was sure that his eyebrows had finally grown back by now.

Surely.

But maybe Draco was right. Perhaps it was because Seamus was too close to Ron. They were all in Gryffindor together, he had a pretty short-temper like Ron, and their hair color was close in hue.

Ugh.

On top of all that, there was the niggling feeling that she was committing some sort of betrayal by even considering Seamus. In fact, she had felt that way on all her dates. But betrayal to whom? Surely not to Ron, who had made it very clear that she was not the only witch who was receiving private rides on his broomstick.

Wow, she really needed to stop hanging around Draco so much; that was just crude.

And on that thought, she stopped to consider…was it because she felt she would be betraying _Draco_? He was her friend! And sure, they had…something…but sex would only complicate things. She could be honest and say that at this point in her life, she _needed _Draco. But to think that by dating someone else, she would be betraying him…it just didn't make sense.

"What do you mean it doesn't seem right, Hermione?" Ginny asked, interrupting her thoughts. Hermione looked up. Judging by her impatient tone and the irritated look on her face, Hermione guessed that Ginny had had to repeat her question because she hadn't been paying attention.

"I just doesn't," Hermione replied back weakly. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"How could it not be more right? You're single, he's single, he's interested, you need to get laid…I'm not telling you to marry the man, Hermione. Just shag him and tell me all about it in the morning."

"I don't know, Gin. It just wouldn't seem right."

"Hermione!" Ginny whined. "You can't let my brother keep you from pursuing happiness. I know you had your plan and all, but you need to let him go." Hermione shook her head.

"It's not about Ron. I'm over all that and I'm definitely over him," she stated resolutely.

"Then what's the problem?" Ginny exasperated, slumping ungracefully onto the sofa next to her.

"I just…I guess I just want to _feel_ something. I want to feel excited whenever we touch, even if it's just a simple grazing of hands. I want to be able to imagine myself waking up to his face. I want to be able to imagine growing old with him and imagine what our children will look like, everything, Gin. I want the whole make-you-want-to-puke-it's-so-sweet package."

"That does sound really nauseating, actually," Ginny piped in. Hermione smirked and threw a cushion at Ginny's head.

"I'm serious, Ginny!" Hermione whined, but with a smirk on her face.

"Well, I'm serious, too. It's sweet, I suppose. And it's what you want. At least you know what you want. Is that why you stayed with Ron so long, despite him being a total ass? Because you saw that in him?"

Hermione was quiet as she thought about it. As she was telling Ginny all of that, she never once thought of Ron. Even after having planned an entire lifetime around Ronald Billius Weasley, now, eight agonizing years later, she realized that it _hadn't been_ Ron for a long while, now. Actually, she had been picturing…

"I kissed Draco," she suddenly blurted out. Ginny sat up again.

"Finally!"

"What do you mean, 'finally'? You thought this would happen?"

"Well, yeah, Hermione. You could cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife." Hermione said nothing to this and slumped down next to Ginny, staring at her hands. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Hermione, sometimes for the smartest witch of your generation, you sure can be obtuse. How was the kiss?" Hermione sighed heavily.

"Amazing." Ginny sat up even straighter and gave Hermione a 'do tell!' look. Hermione shook her head. "It was amazing, yet it felt weird at the same time." Ginny cocked her head to the side with a bemused look on her face.

"How could kissing Draco Malfoy be weird? He's bloody gorgeous! And with his reputation, he couldn't possibly be bad!" Hermione winced as she was hit with a surprising twinge of jealousy as Ginny mentioned his past.

"No, he's amazing. But…I don't know. I'm attracted to him the way I would imagine being attracted to a stepbrother. I feel as if I'm not supposed to be attracted to him even while technically, it should be totally acceptable." Ginny nodded sagely, showing her understanding.

"Plus, there is your friendship to consider. Wouldn't want to muck that up."

"Exactly! I couldn't do that. I…I _need_ him, Gin. And I'm afraid that if we try to pursue this, one or both of us will muck it up and we'll end up the way Ron and I are now." Ginny sat and pondered on everything Hermione said for a moment before suddenly standing up with a resolute look upon her face.

"Well, that settles it. There's only one thing to do now."

"What's that?"

"You're _definitely_ going to call Seamus."

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**A/N Update [2/11/13]: Did a little bit of editing on this chapter. Nothing too big. Just made some adjustments to the timeline. I was attempting to make it a Valentine's Day story, but it wasn't coming together in a way that I liked. Maybe if I finish this one in time, I'll try and make a short one-shot for the holiday. We shall see. ;]**


	2. Chapter 2: Draco

**A/N: For those who are following this story, READ CHAPTER ONE AGAIN!**

**The previously uploaded chapter was just a preview and is now re-uploaded in its FULL form. So, please, GO BACK TO CHAPTER ONE!**

**For those reading for the first time, welcome to chapter two! :]**

* * *

**Plan D is for Draco**

**Part Two**

Draco Malfoy didn't _do_ plans. He lived by the motto, "Carpe Diem." He was going to take life one day at a time and fuck tomorrow, he'll think about it when it was today…or…something.

He was pretty drunk at the time.

He could remember the exact moment when he had decided on that particular motto, too. It was the night he also realized that he was irrevocably, undeniably, irreversibly in love.

And with Hermione Granger, no less.

And she was with that plonker, Weasley.

Up until that point, Draco's life had been perfectly planned out from birth. He was to be brought up as a perfect, pureblooded prince, go to Hogwarts, get good grades, gain good standing and make politically intelligent connections, follow his father's ideology that Mudbloods were lower than dirt and that the world would be much better off without them, and then graduate. Then he would take up a position within the Ministry that his father had arranged, and probably paid good money for, work his way up and gain political favor, stay in the public eye as an esteemed citizen, flaunt his money and catch the eye of a suitable pureblooded bride. He would get married, most certainly not for love, produce the mandatory heir, and live the rest of his life away from his wife if he so chose. He was born a pureblooded prat and he would die a pureblooded prat, leaving his children as his legacy, also raised to be the prattiest prats in all of England.

It wasn't until the end of his fifth year that he had begun to see the error of his father's ways. Back then, he was at the peak of his prattishness. He had been a member of Dolores Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, had flaunted and abused his power as was expected, and had caught Potter and his merry gang of misfits practicing Defense Against the Dark Arts in the Room of Requirements. At the time, he had felt that their efforts were futile; Voldemort would win and with that victory, Draco would be at the top of the world. Lucius and his family were devout followers and Voldemort would give them whatever they wanted. He couldn't wait for the day when he could finally say with 100% confidence and assurance that he was most definitely above Potter and his merry gang of fuckwits.

But then the Battle at the Department of Mysteries happened and Draco began to see what a tool his father really was. He had allowed himself to be bested by a group of fourth and fifth years, who hadn't learned nearly enough magic as the Death Eaters. And while it was true that Dumbledore had stepped in to help Potter save the day, he was still just one, old man up against the man Draco had believed to be the most powerful wizard of the time.

Draco was, of course, understandably angry about his father landing in Azkaban. Regardless of Lucius' misjudgment of character in Lord Voldemort, he was a caring man towards his family. He loved his wife, cherished his only son, and only ever wanted what he thought was best for his family. And without his father around, Draco had lost the only buffer between him and the Death Eaters. Honestly, Draco had never wanted to be a Death Eater. It was a radical move that Draco thought was unnecessary, especially since the Malfoys were an influential family without Voldemort's help. It wasn't until Draco was at Hogwarts that he found out that Lucius was one of them and with that information, Draco had begun to lose a little of the idolizing adoration he had had for his father.

But by the time he had turned sixteen, he hated his father for making such a foolish decision as allowing that madman to mark him. Because now he was marked, too. The ugly_ Mordsmorde_ was embedded into his skin, causing him to be subjected to Voldemort's tyrannical rule. He had become a puppet when he had been so used to being his own man, his own boss. And, of course, Voldemort had to make everything worse by giving him such an impossible task. He put on a brave face for his mother, and assured her that he would do everything in his power to restore the family's good standing amongst the Death Eaters; but inside he was a quaking mess. For the first time, he wished that he had had a _real _friend, someone he could talk to who wouldn't judge him or think him weak. But he had no one.

When he returned to school that year, he had made sure to keep up appearances and brag to his friends about his new position. Inside, however, he was growing more and more disgusted with himself. He released his anger on Potter on the train and had felt a tiny bit better, but it was short lived. As the school year went on, his task just seemed more and more impossible; he finally caved and had to talk to someone. Moaning Myrtle served to be a strange, yet comforting, outlet for his problems, but he still longed for someone corporeal to talk to, even if it meant that another living soul, besides his mother, would see him cry.

Everything seemed to be spiraling downward. He couldn't play Quidditch, indeed was so distracted by everything going on in his life, he didn't _want_ to play Quidditch. After finally fixing the damn cabinet, he couldn't even finish his task and kill Dumbledore, a small victory for his conscience, only to be considered an accomplice and a fugitive, anyway. On top of everything, he had hurt innocent people in his desperation to complete his second task and actually felt bad about it (well, except for maybe Weasley; that boy deserved everything he got, the wanker).

But on top of the Astronomy Tower, something Dumbledore had said had stuck with him. He had mentioned another boy who had once made poor choices, and then he had offered his help. This man, even in the face of death, was so great, so kind, that he would offer his murderer help. At that moment, Draco knew that he would never be able to kill him. Luckily for him, he didn't have to, and Snape had stepped forward and had done it for him.

And then they ran.

Snape had proved to be an odd companion; he was a very stern and quiet person and had always kept to himself. But for those few weeks when Draco and Snape had kept low before they found a way to get back to Malfoy Manor undetected, Draco learned more about this man than he had ever wanted to know. Shortly after having fled Hogwarts, Draco confessed that he never wanted any of this. He had been a panicked young man who had seen and done much more than was expected for a wizard of his age. Snape, in a surprisingly tender manner, had told Draco that he was proud of him. In his quest to live up to his father's name, he had accomplished so much in so little time; non-verbal magic, having taken on such a large responsibility in becoming the head of the household, not to mention the head of an estate as large as the Malfoys', it was all a lot to take on for a sixteen year old boy. But Draco had done it, tripped over a few bumps in the road, and had been able to break away from his father's misguided ideas.

And then Snape had revealed the biggest bomb of all; he was actually a spy for Dumbledore and the young man that the late Headmaster had mentioned was himself. At that moment, Draco didn't know what to think. Snape had made the same offer to Draco, to help him, and Draco had accepted it, however late it may have been to do any good.

That summer, Draco had been punished for his failure to kill Dumbledore, but was spared his life for succeeding in fixing the cabinet and allowing Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters into the castle. Meanwhile, Draco was spending every spare moment with Snape, trying to find ways to get out of all the tasks Voldemort was doling out to everyone. It had been Snape's idea to open the school and begin training the students to make a young army for the Dark Lord and Voldemort had taken the bait and placed Snape in as Headmaster. Draco had gone back to school, and quickly noticed that not many else had. Potter, Weasley and Granger were missing, as was to be expected. Snape had suggested that he didn't draw too much attention to himself and to keep his head down. So he did and just did the bare minimum of what was to be expected of him.

Then Spring Holiday came around and the Troublesome Trio showed up at his door. At some point, he knew that they could end up in this position and had told himself that while he hated them, he hated Voldemort more and they were the Wizarding World's only hope now that Dumbledore was gone. So he lied and said he wasn't sure. But then, of course, Bellatrix had gone spare about the sword and set about torturing Granger. Even then, before becoming her friend, before actually getting to know her, he had wanted to try to save her. It was the damndest thing; he knew what his aunt was capable of, he knew that trying such a foolish thing would just get the both of them killed, but he felt this insane need to protect Hermione. Bellatrix then tried to heckle him into joining her, and Draco thought he would vomit at the thought. Because while he had thought her blood to be dirty, Hermione was as pure and innocent as freshly fallen snow. She had done nothing except be on the opposite side of a terrible war. At that point, he had to admit that she was amazingly brilliant, just for a witch in general, and had her own power that Draco admired. While weaker people would have caved, Hermione continued to lie through her teeth even while she grew pale due to the loss of blood and tears streamed down her face. They had managed to escape, but Draco couldn't get that incident out of his mind, even while Voldemort punished all of them, including Bellatrix, for allowing them to get away.

Draco hadn't returned to school after that until the Final Battle.

After his trials were over, he felt indebted to Hermione and Harry for basically saving him from Azkaban. He was sure that without their testimonies, he would have gone straight to prison. But they were forgiving enough, just so purely _good _enough, to testify on behalf of a person they had hated for almost half of their lives. He had approached them after and apologized for everything, even went so far to extend it to Weasley, who he still didn't much care for. Weasley refused to accept his apology, which had been fine with Draco because, he assured, the hate was mutual.

Life went on for the Malfoy family and Draco tried his best to return to a normal existence. He kept to what Snape had told him while at Hogwarts and kept a low profile, trying not to draw much attention to himself because there were so many people who thought that he and Lucius should be rotting in a cell at Azkaban Prison. Under his mother's suggestion, he had gone back to Hogwarts to finish his education and perhaps create a new start. He had gotten off on such horrible footing the last year, and decided that this year, he would try hard to shake off the negative air that hung about his family and his name.

He was never so glad that he had decided to go to school.

Those short straws had turned out to be a miracle for Draco. Someone somewhere had obviously thought that Draco needed a break and sent it in the form of a five-foot-five, bushy-haired, angel. Of course, he had been reluctant at first to share a living space with Granger; they may have made a truce, but they were far from being friends. But more than anything, he had been worried that she would just be a nagging, screeching wench. He used to watch the way she scolded Potter and Weasley and didn't want her to go about thinking that she could get away with doing the same to him. He resolved that if she ever began to treat him in such a manner, truce or no truce, he would hex her mouth shut.

That first night was life altering for him. Up until that point, he had always thought Granger to be a prude. But watching her watch him that night, as he was stepping out of that shower, he could feel himself getting aroused by the way her eyes roamed his body. He could see her interest in what she saw reflected in her eyes. And, if he were honest, he took that time to take a look at her, too. Her figure had turned from thin and boyish to womanly curves. He had never seen her dressed in so little and, he couldn't lie, he liked what he saw. Then, of course, her eyes had ventured south before her immediate departure. He was pleasantly amused by Hermione Granger and initially stopped into her room afterwards to tease her. She went into her ramble about bathroom schedules, to which he barely paid attention and instead fixed his gaze on her chest as her breasts began to expose themselves with each frantic hand gesture she made. As soon as she was done speaking, he did the gentlemanly thing and informed her of her wardrobe mishap before making a quick exit, lest she see the effect her exposed chest was having on him. But before the door closed behind him, he had heard her soft laughter and her witty reply: "_Then we're almost even."_ It was then that Draco had decided that Granger wasn't as bad as he thought.

After that exchange, they often found themselves seeking each other out; they studied together, sat together during classes, even ate together at times. But they would barely say a word to each other unless it was to engage in a heated debate where one or both of them would storm off to their rooms, Draco annoyed and strangely turned on at the same time. He had tried very hard to push aside his sudden attraction to Gryffindor's Golden Girl. It wasn't about the fact that she was a Gryffindor or even that she was a Muggle-born. It had everything to do with her pureness. She embodied everything that was good; she was incredibly intelligent, passionate about her various underdog causes, and braver than anyone he had ever met. And he was Draco Malfoy, accomplice to the murder of possibly the greatest wizard who had ever lived. He was damaged and broken and he couldn't possibly taint her. So he settled for a tentative friendship, which had worked out well for him. They kept enough distance from each other to show that they still didn't completely trust the other, but kept close enough to be comfortable in the other's presence. It was an odd arrangement, Draco knew, but it worked. No matter that as each day went by, he found himself wanting to know her more, wanting to just sit with her and talk and pick her brain. Maybe subconsciously, he felt that if he hung around her long enough, some of her goodness would rub off on him.

Over Winter Holiday, he was summoned to Malfoy Manor while she spent it with her parents as well. He didn't realize how much he would miss her. He almost didn't care how much of a Plonker he seemed, pining after a girl he could never have. On New Year's Eve, as he bitterly wondered if she was kissing Weasley at midnight, he realized that he, maybe, liked her…as more than a platonic study buddy. He had shaken his head, trying to dislodge the idea, but it stuck. He told no one; there was no one to tell, anyway. He kept the realization to himself and went back to Hogwarts and acted as if everything was fine and dandy.

Months passed and he tried to forget, but instead, he grew fonder and they got closer. They even had a daily routine; they would sit and eat meals together, attend classes together, study in the library after dinner together, then retire to their suite where they would stay up and just talk, sitting a respectable distance from each other on whoever's bed they chose to crash onto that night. More than once, they had fallen asleep, but Draco would always wake first and spend a few minutes watching her sleep before waking her up, saying goodnight, and going their separate ways. It was during one of these nighttime talks that they had had the discussion about romantic gestures and she had informed him that she hated breakfast in bed. He had laughed and called her un-romantic, but he knew that wasn't true. For his birthday, she had gotten Ron top box tickets to see his favorite Quidditch team and made reservations at a fancy restaurant. For their five month anniversary, Ron had gotten her bath towels.

Even before he realized that he had feelings for her, Draco knew that Hermione was way too good for Weasley. He was a dunderheaded wanker with no class, style or manners. Hermione was incredibly intelligent, poised, and had a sort of unconventional beauty that radiated more from within. And he told absolutely no one that he thought such sappy thoughts. Ever. He was waiting for the day that Hermione Granger would finally wake up and see that Ron was just not the match for her and find someone worthy of her. He never thought for one second that he could be such a man and tried, with little success, to move on and get over her.

It was a balmy, Saturday night in late May when everything had changed.

_He had taken his broom out for a fly after breakfast, opting to skip the Hogsmeade trip. Hermione had informed him earlier in the week that Ron was going to meet with her at the Three Broomsticks._

"_Lousy place for a date, if you ask me," he had told her as she finished getting ready. She had simply rolled her eyes good-naturedly and then left after giving him a small peck on the cheek that left his skin scorching. He had hoped that he wasn't blushing. So up in the air he went, trying to forget about everything except the feel of the cool air on his face and the warm sun on his skin. He flew for hours, practically nonstop, through lunch and almost through dinner until he noticed how low the sun was. He decided to stop by the suite and shower before heading down to dinner. But when he arrived at the bathroom, he was shocked to find Hermione there, sitting with her back against the side of the tub, crying her eyes out._

_He went immediately to her, not even asking what was wrong, and knew that the only person to blame had to be Weasley. He cradled her against his chest and she sobbed into his silk shirt. He would have never guessed that this wouldn't be the last time he found himself in such a position. He carried her gently to her room and laid her down on the bed before conjuring a glass of water. He urged her to drink, but never to divulge. If she felt that she wanted to share, he would be ready to listen. But only when she was ready. He made a move to leave, but she surprised him by grabbing him by the arm and pleading with him to stay. He had looked into her sad, teary eyes and hated Weasley for reducing her to this. He impulsively returned the sweet gesture that she had given him that morning and brushed his lips against her cheek before promising that he would be back soon. She had nodded forlornly and closed her eyes._

_He was back in thirty minutes, freshly showered, bearing gifts of food and two bottles; one of Firewhiskey and one of gin. She had fallen asleep in the time that he had been gone and he gently shook her awake, urging her to eat a little bit of something and drink another glass of water. She eyed the alcohol with a raised eyebrow._

"_Don't give me that look, Granger," he had said with a raised brow of his own. "If there was a time to get pissed drunk, it's right now." Hermione had actually cracked a smile at that comment before sitting up a bit and taking the proffered glass from him._

"_Besides," he continued with a shrug, "I'm no good with crying females. I'm afraid this is the best I can do as far as comfort goes." Hermione's smile grew wider, yet a bit shy._

"_You've done more than enough, Draco. Thank you."_

That had been the first time she had ever uttered his given name. For months, _years_, she had only called him "Malfoy." It wasn't until that moment that he realized that he had been waiting to hear it and it made him feel oddly elated inside. But, being an expert at hiding his emotions, he had tamped the feeling down and continued on pouring himself a healthy amount of Firewhiskey before downing it in one.

Things from there escalated exponentially.

_Between the two of them, they had consumed an entire bottle each within the first hour; he sticking with the Firewhiskey and she with the gin. Needless to say, they were absolutely drunk. Their antics were bordering on ridiculous. They had exchanged embarrassing stories about their friends, Hermione had convinced Draco to dance around the room with her like a maniac, knocking over furniture, and now they were playing strip poker. Neither of them knew who was winning, just that they were both down to two articles of clothing; Hermione in her bra and knickers and Draco in his boxers and one black sock. Draco grabbed the gin, swirling what little liquid there was left before tossing back half of the contents and passing it to Hermione. Hermione smirked, swigged back the rest and threw the bottle haphazardly behind her, allowing it to roll underneath her bed._

"_Show me, Granger," he slurred with a confident smirk on his face. "Between the two of us, I think you'd be the one at a disadvantage here. I hope you have something good." Hermione smirked in return before laying her cards down._

"_Read 'em and weep, Malfoy." Damn. She had beat his flush with a full house. And he had spent the last hand contemplating what she would expose first: those tempting tits he had been surreptitiously glancing at ever since she had shed her top or…_

"_Strip!" She interrupted his lascivious thoughts with her abrupt and drunken command. He knew that she was expecting him to simply peel off his remaining sock, but decided to mess with her a little bit; after all, it wouldn't have been the first time that she had seen him naked. He slowly stood, a smirk spreading across his face as he watched her expression turn from smug to wary._

"_What…what are you doing, Malfoy?" she asked as he slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers. He watched in surprise as her eyes darkened and her breathing began to grow a bit shallow. Merlin…could it be that the idea of him stripping down held as much appeal to her as it did him?_

"_Well," he began his reply, his voice husky, "You asked me to strip, did you not?"_

"_Well, I assumed that…" she trailed off as he immediately dropped his underwear to his ankles. He made a show of stepping out of them before tossing them atop the messy pile of their accumulated clothing. It was oddly pleasing, the thought that both his and her clothes were mixed together on her bedroom floor. He never broke his gaze from her, and watched her eyes travel down his form. As soon as her gaze zeroed in on his now erect penis, she blushed and stood abruptly. She wavered as all the blood rushed to her head and Draco's instant reaction was to reach out and steady her, afraid she might fall over._

"_Whoa…steady there, Granger," he said softly, still holding onto her elbows. She looked up at him, locking her eyes with his._

"_Thanks," she whispered. Draco realized their proximity and relished the feel of her soft curves cradled against his body. His eyes travelled across her face, noting all the little details; she had a small smattering of freckles across her small, button nose, a small, circular scar next to her right eye, and her lips…_

_His brain seemed to have stopped any sort of rational thought because he felt no reason for hesitation as he leaned forward and covered her lips with his. They felt so soft and full and warm. He moved his lips slightly and was delighted when her lips began to do the same. With a renewed dose of arousal, he pulled her body flush against his, allowing him to feel every bump and curve against his hard form. She moaned as the kisses grew more fervent, her small hands grasping his biceps firmly._

_He let his hands roam up and down her body, feeling her heated skin underneath his fingers. Her hands slowly began to do the same. Even through his drunken haze, he kept thinking that he shouldn't be doing this and that he should stop before it went further. But she promptly put an end to whatever thoughts he had as her hand brushed against his erection._

_Clothes were discarded, including his one, remaining sock, and she pulled him over to the bed. She fell backwards onto it with a giggle and he crawled over her body, trailing kisses up her skin as he did. He stopped at her magnificent breasts and paid them proper attention, relishing every sigh and moan she made, before continuing on and meeting his lips with hers once again. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, he pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes, silently asking her if she was sure. She smiled and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I want you, Draco."_

_Those words had been his undoing and in one quick thrust, he was inside her moist heat. He didn't move for a moment, realizing that she was tight…really tight. He pulled back again to look at her. She had a slightly pained look on her face and her eyes were closed._

"_Hermione?" he rasped out._

"_It's okay," she said weakly. "I'll be okay, just give me a moment."_

"_Damn it, Granger, why didn't you tell me?" Hermione shrugged._

"_I didn't want to ruin the moment." Draco was torn between being aroused and frustrated with this woman._

"_Well, do you want me to stop?" Hermione abruptly wrapped her legs around his waist again, causing her hips to thrust up against his and sending him deeper into her body. They both groaned._

"_Don't you dare stop," she moaned out. Draco smirked and began to move his hips slowly, allowing her to get used to the movement. It wasn't long before she was moaning for him to go "faster" and "harder." Who knew that Granger would be so vocal in bed?_

_He tried to keep his orgasm at bay until she had one; if he was going to unintentionally steal her first time, he was going to make sure she at least go off on it. He lowered his hand to where their bodies met and quickly found her little bundle of nerves. Moments later, she came, shouting his name, her back arching off the bed. He then promptly began pounding into her fervently, her hips, surprisingly, meeting him thrust for thrust. He began to feel her flutter around him, signaling a second orgasm and changed the angle of his hips so as to hit her in a place he was quickly becoming familiar with. She came with a scream and he followed soon after._

In the afterglow, they had cuddled for a few more hours, talking about anything and everything. It was then that she had told Draco about her Plan. She was so animated as she described, in detail, everything that she had wanted to accomplish. Draco nodded along, amused that she thought she had everything figured out. He had understood the concept, of course, having had his life planned out for him since birth, but didn't feel that anyone should live that way anymore. If there was one thing he had learned that year, it was that you couldn't count on life to just go the way you wanted it to. He never would have anticipated that he would become friends with the wizarding world's most famous Muggle-Born, and definitely didn't expect that he would find himself in bed with her after they had just had the best sex of his life. But instead of commenting, for once, he simply listened and allowed her voice to wash over and relax him. _She_ relaxed him. If he took the time to think about it, she had been relaxing him all year. It wasn't easy coming back to Hogwarts and she had made him feel at ease even as so many of his schoolmates gave him a hard time. Being around her was easy and…just…_relaxing_. Even while she threw up three times that night and he held back her hair, he still felt _relaxed_.

That night, they had fallen asleep wrapped around each other. It was the best sleep Draco had ever had. He had woken up before her with such a feeling of contentment and it took him a moment to realize what it was. Then he had looked down at Hermione's sleeping face, saw her lips swollen from their kissing and her cheeks rosy from their activity and he found himself wishing that he could wake up like this every day. He had frozen at that line of thought and realized that he had fallen in love with her.

_He was in love! Now he knew why he had been feeling relaxed around her. He knew why it was just so easy to be in her presence. He now knew what all the fuss was about. It was knowing that someone would always be there in the morning. It was feeling as if no one else in the world would ever know you as well. It was feeling as if the world was just brighter now that she was in it. It was feeling that this one person made you better. It was all that sappy shit that he never understood before this moment. He decided that when she woke up, he would see how she felt about them seeing each other. Because surely, if she had given herself to him, she and Weasley were over, right?_

_At that moment, as if to answer his question, that annoying little owl, Pig, slammed into her closed window. Draco rolled his eyes and slowly got up to let the poor excuse for a bird inside. Hermione simply rolled over and kept sleeping. Draco padded over to the bird, took its offerings and practically threw it back out the window._

_Draco looked down at the small bouquet of flowers – daisies, not roses, as he knew were Hermione's favorite – in his hand with the short note attached._

"_Hermione," it read. "I'm so sorry that I was such a tosser." Draco snorted at that. He certainly had that right. "Please accept these flowers as an apology and meet me this afternoon at the Three Broomsticks. We'll start over. Love, Ron."_

_Draco dropped the bouquet on her desk as if it had burned him. He looked back at the girl that he just realized he loved. He knew that as soon as she saw that note, no matter what had happened between them last night, he knew she was going to take that stupid oaf back. He sighed and ran his hands over his face. What was he going to do? He couldn't just sit back and go back to pretending that everything was okay. But he also couldn't just watch as Weasley paraded around with a girl he certainly didn't deserve; the prick didn't even know her favorite flowers, even after having been friends with her for the past seven years. But when weighing his options, he would rather pretend that everything was okay and still be her friend than let this come between them. He needed her in his life._

_He took one last look at her before silently gathering up his clothes and going back to his room, vowing that he was just going to take his life one day at a time. He wasn't going to think about what was going to happen tomorrow because all he had was right now. They only had one month of school left. One month where he could spend time with Hermione and not have to worry about Weasley interfering. For one more month, they would continue to live in their little bubble, studying, laughing, and just continuing to be friends. It wasn't what he wanted, but it's what he had to accept. Because as much as he believed that Weasley wasn't deserving, he deserved her even less._

_So one day at a time until graduation. And then after that, who knew? Maybe they'd still be friends, maybe she'll marry the Plonker and have little ginger babies and never speak to him again. But he wasn't going to think about that right now. That's another day and he still had today. One day at a time…_

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Now, if you asked anyone who really knew him, Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly what you would call mild-tempered. He was hardly patient, he was almost never kind, was very quick to anger and knew how to hold a grudge. With that being said, he didn't have the best coping mechanisms when things didn't go his way, either.

So when Granger did the inevitable and was back with Weasley by lunchtime the next day, he reacted as anyone with his temperament would in this situation.

He became a man-whore.

He slept with every easy girl at Hogwarts after that. Even slept with some of them twice. And after they had graduated, it only got worse. The area he had to cover became wider. The world was his oyster and he was going to sample it all. No matter that none of them ever felt _right_. No matter that he felt he needed a long shower after every tryst. No matter that he could never look Hermione in the eye after knowing what he had done to some no-name girl the night before. None of that mattered because she was with _Weasley_.

Eventually, it got harder to act as if it wasn't affecting him. He actually wanted companionship. He actually wanted something more real than empty words and even emptier sex. He wanted more from a girl than interest in what was in his bank account. He wanted someone who would like him for _him_, someone to accept him for the man that he has become and not just what his last name stood for. He wanted substance, he wanted something more lasting. He wanted _Hermione_, damn it, but he couldn't have her.

So when she came over the night that she and Weasley had called it quits – and he still wasn't entirely convinced that they wouldn't get back together – for a moment, he had the crazy thought that maybe he finally would get his chance to tell her how he felt. But as he continued to watch her cry her anguished tears over a man so undeserving, he couldn't do it. He didn't have the confidence that he wouldn't muck things up just as badly and he definitely didn't want to have to make Hermione this upset. He just couldn't stand the thought of it and Weasley was an even bigger arsehole for doing this to Hermione so often.

Instead of finally telling her how he felt, he suggested she go out and date, as much as the idea nauseated him. He pretended to be excited for her, pretended that he would be 100% supportive, pretended that it wouldn't bug the shit out of him if she came home having found "the one," especially since it was his stupid idea in the first place. He made the suggestion, sent her home and tried to go to bed, but ended up tossing and turning uncomfortably for hours before he was finally able to get a lousy two hours of sleep in.

He woke up in a wretched mood and decided that a good pick-me-up was in order. He Apparated to Diagon Alley, intent on getting some good, black coffee from The Leaky. Hannah knew how to make it best. After feeling a bit more alert, he wandered around the Alley aimlessly, still torturing himself by thinking about what kind of bloke Hermione would end up with next. It didn't seem like she had the best judgment of character when it came to romantic entanglements: Krum, that crummy McLaggen character, the Plonker, even himself, though he felt as if he could be better if he was with her. He shook his head free of the thought and realized that he found himself in front of the offices of _The Daily Prophet_. He sighed, figuring that if Hermione was going to start dating again, he'd need help from someone who wasn't completely biased. And that's how he found himself in Ginny Potter's office, gossiping like an old, maiden aunt.

They were interrupted by a knock on her office door and Ginny absently called for the visitor to "come in," even while she began listing possible suitors for Hermione. Draco turned as he heard the door quietly creak open to see Seamus Finnegan coming in through the door. Upon sight, both men scowled at each other.

"Oh! Seamus! What a pleasant surprise! What brings you around here?" Ginny stood to greet her former housemate.

"Well, I came to ask if you had any job openings, but if you're busy, I can come back later," he said, glaring back at Draco.

"Oh, no, Draco here was just in having a chat. We'll talk about this later, yes, Draco?" Draco, who was more than happy to leave the presence of the sandy-haired dolt, abruptly stood and gave a quick farewell.

Hours later, he regretted not staying as he listened to Hermione go on about how Ginny was planning to set her up with the Irish wanker.

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"Why does everyone feel that I need to be with someone?" Draco smirked as he heard Hermione's frustrated question.

"Well, the fact that you are currently having a conversation with yourself might be one clue." He leaned against the frame of her office door, outwardly exuding the guise of lazy, nonchalance. But inside, he felt like a wreck. His heart was pounding faster than it should and it was taking all of his self-control to breathe normally. Great Merlin, he needed to get a hold of himself. He could _not_ act like such a sap around her! Seriously, how did he do it all this time? Did his stupid _feelings_ lie dormant just because she was with Weasley? He almost wished they _hadn't_ broken up if he now had to deal with acting like a complete ponce.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, how may I help you?" she asked dryly. He didn't know why, but hearing her address him as _Mr. Malfoy_ turned him on. He was one fucked up fellow, he knew.

"Why, Ms. Granger," he replied back, a bit flirtingly, he had to admit. "Can't I simply visit an old friend? I was in the neighborhood." No, actually, he wasn't. But he wasn't about to tell her that he had spent the entire evening with…with…Merlin, what the _fuck_ was her name? He had been dating her for _weeks_ now and he never seemed to remember it. Ah, yes, Candi. With a bloody "I." Stupid girl…Yes, he had spent the entire evening with Candi last night, but couldn't seem to take his mind off _her_. So he sent Candi home, said it was over, she cried, and that was that. But he still couldn't get his mind off Hermione. What was she doing? Had she gone out with Finnegan yet? He had refrained from asking for the past couple of weeks because, frankly, he didn't want to know. She hadn't mentioned anything either, but would she? Did they have that kind of friendship? I mean, he told her practically everything, with the obvious exception being that he was in love with her, and he would like to think that she did the same. After all, she liked to rant and rave and he _really_ didn't need to know about half the stuff he heard.

"So, how's old Finnegan doing? Shag him rotten yet?" Well, fuck. Why did he have to go open his fat mouth? Did he really want to know? He tried to make sure he kept up his mask of nonchalance, and even threw a smirk on his face so it just looked like he was just trying to be facetious. But inside, he was sitting at the edge of his seat, maybe even doing the mental equivalent of biting one's nails.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, a blush immediately rising on her cheeks. What the fuck did that _mean_? Was she blushing because she _did_? Finnegan was dead!

"For your information, I haven't even gone out with him yet!" Oh, thank Merlin. He allowed himself to finally relax. He rolled his eyes and made some flippant comment about Finnegan possibly being "the one" or whatever, even while mentally doing victory laps around her office. Good. Finnegan was an even bigger wanker than Weasley. At least Weasley can take _some _credit in having defeated the most evil wizard in history. What can Finnegan lay claim to?

"First of all, I thought we agreed we were NEVER going to talk about that again." Wait, talk about what? What was she talking about? He quickly thought back to what he had said to her. Something about…_gin_.

Instantly he was transported back to _that_ night. He shook his head free of the memory. He had been thinking about it way too often lately, and it wasn't helping him keep things strictly platonic between them.

"And excuse me, Malfoy, if I don't just jump into bed with any bloke I see. I'm not like you, you know." He didn't know why, but he actually took offense to that statement.

"Excuse _me_, Granger," he said coldly. "But I do not just jump into bed with any girl I see. I do have standards, you know." She made another comment, to which he gave a short reply, but he couldn't stop thinking about what she said.

Is that how she saw him? As just some playboy? Sure, he knew that his actions after their night together weren't exactly exemplary, but he never thought about how it would look to her. Did she…did she think she was just like _them_? Just another nameless girl, another notch on his bedpost? Because she _wasn't_. Why couldn't she see that she was head and shoulders above the rest? And _why_ couldn't he stop himself from having these completely ponce-y thoughts?

He brought up lunch and they made their way to the lifts. He absently greeted people as they passed, still lost in his thoughts. He did, however, make sure that they maintained a certain level of…whatever the opposite of hopeless, pining idiot was. But as soon as the lift doors closed, he suddenly realized how very…alone they were.

"Wow, is it just me or did it suddenly become warmer in here?" she asked. Draco was brought immediately back to the present. So…it wasn't just him? Was she _actually_ feeling something, too? A grin spread across his face.

"It's not you, it's me." Just because his thoughts were idiotic didn't mean he was going to act differently that he normally would.

"Prat. But seriously, it's very warm." She began to remove her coat. Oh, sweet mercy, she was wearing that cream, sheer blouse he liked on her so much. He could see that she was wearing a pale pink camisole underneath and was trying to decide if it was one of the ones that had…what did she call it? Oh yes, a _built-in_ bra…meaning that she could be _bare_ underneath it. He continued to watch as she popped open the first two buttons of her blouse and began fanning it back and forth, allowing him a view of her cleavage. It was confirmed…all that would separate him from those gorgeous breasts, apart from that fetching blouse, of course, was a thin piece of cloth and elastic.

"No, I agree, it's very warm," he managed to croak out.

"Are you alright?" No, he wasn't. "You sound funny." He felt anything but funny, especially in the pants region. She drew closer to him, raising his hand towards his face. He flinched.

"Wh-What are you doing?" If she touched him now, he wasn't sure he could control himself. This space was so small and she was so close. He was enveloped in her scent…it was like roses, hibiscus tea, and citrus. He knew that the smell of roses was from her favorite soap and the hibiscus tea was probably from the cup she had every morning as soon as she arrived to the office. The citrus, he wasn't sure of. Maybe it was just part of her natural smell. Whatever it was, he loved it.

"Nothing. I just noticed that you've begun to sweat and I was going to wipe it away."

"No," he replied quickly. "That's not necessary." He pulled a silk monogrammed handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his face. "Besides," he added, "Malfoys don't sweat."

"Oh, is that so? What do you call this, then?" Before he could anticipate what she was about to do, she reached out and swiped her fingers against his temple. He reflexively caught her wrist, inadvertently pulling her body closer to his. For a few agonizing moments, they started into each other's eyes. He could feel his body reacting to her proximity and almost didn't care. Maybe it was about time he let her know how he felt. He began to lean closer, his eyes fixated on her plump, pink lips. He swore that she began to sway towards him as well when the lift suddenly stopped.

"The Atrium." Ah, saved by the _ding!_

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Draco was a nervous wreck.

He kept glancing at the clock, not even attempting to pretend that he wasn't completely occupied by the fact that Hermione was now fifteen minutes into her date.

He didn't even know what this Michael bloke looked like and he already hated him. Sure, he sounded like he would be perfect for Hermione, book nerd and all. But would he know that he needed to hold her and stroke her hair whenever she had a nightmare? Would he know that whenever she had a cold, that she liked the grape flavored potion, not the cherry? Would he know that she needed a back massage around _that time of the month_? Would he know that she had fallen off a horse when she was thirteen, had to have back surgery, and as a result, the skin around the scar was completely numb? As a matter of fact, did Weasley ever know these small, intimate details about her? _He_ knew. He knew everything about her. He _loved_ everything about her.

He sighed.

7:24.

He wondered what they were talking about. If they just had everything in common and if she was now amending her Plan to fit _Michael_ into her future. The very thought made him sick.

The sudden pop of someone Apparating into his kitchen shook him from his thoughts. There was only one person besides himself that was allowed to through his anti-Apparition wards.

"You're lucky I wasn't entertaining, Granger," he quipped lightly. But inside his mind was racing. _Why was she here? Did her date go that badly? Or was it lust at first sight and they couldn't wait til the end of the date to…_

He shook his head, dislodging all these ridiculous thoughts. Merlin, he was acting like…like…_a girl_. Ugh.

"Please. When was the last time you brought a woman here?" Draco raised his eyebrows as he watched her move straight to the liquor cabinet, even while pondering her question. The answer was never. He had never brought any girls back to his flat, other than Hermione. There were signs of her all over the place; the book she lent to him, but he still hadn't read, a blanket she had brought over a few months ago when she had a cold and Draco had ordered in chicken noodle soup, pictures on his mantle of them both, clothes that she had left behind on the few nights that she was either too tired or too drunk to get herself home. He was sure there were the same signs of himself all over _her_ flat as well. In fact, if he really thought about it, there were probably more things of his at her flat than there had been of Ron's.

"I take it the date didn't go well," he said instead of keeping his thought along those dangerous lines.

"He stood me up," she said dryly. Draco's insides boiled at the thoughtlessness of that man. Hermione had enough self-esteem issues without some bastard standing her up for their date and making her think that she was unworthy of even an owl cancelling.

"What a prick!" It was out of his mouth before he even knew he was going to say it. But seriously, this Michael character really was a prick. Didn't he know who Hermione Granger was?

But at the same time, he was relieved. At least now they knew that Michael definitely wasn't the one and Draco had more time to spend with the one woman who quickly became the most important person in his life. That was, until she went on another date…and maybe with someone who really was perfect. He inwardly groaned. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. They continued talking and Hermione told him all about what happened on her non-date.

"I don't think I was ready to go on a blind date, anyway," she said with a sigh.

"Granger, that's what you said about Finnegan. And you know him."

"Well, maybe that's the problem," Hermione finally answered with a shrug. "Maybe I know him too well. He was a Gryffindor, too. Too close to Ron, maybe." Wait, that was it! Draco knew it was low-handed and Slytherin of him, but he knew a way to keep with the pretense that he was supportive of her finding someone else, but still keep her close to him.

"That's it!" he said out loud.

"What's it?" Hermione asked dumbly, having sunk back into the comfort of the sofa. He didn't dare glance back at her because he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with his dirty, rotten trick if he looked at her all sweet and relaxed on his sofa.

"You don't need a blind date, you need to go out with someone you know," he continued instead, pacing around his living room. "But not someone you know well. Maybe more of an acquaintance. Someone you know well enough to feel comfortable with, but not with someone that will remind you of Weasel."

"Have someone in mind, Draco?" Hermione asked, chuckling. Draco stopped, and looked at her, but still mentally putting together all the little details. It would be perfect.

"Maybe," he answered back, finally. He ignored Hermione's answering groan.

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Blaise Zabini was notorious for his outrageous partying ways. He also liked to try to lie to Draco about how good he was with the ladies, always throwing around outrageous stories about how he had ten girls waiting for him at some grotty hotel and that Draco should come along. In reality, Blaise Zabini couldn't get one girl to even look at him properly let alone ten and wet and waiting. But he was perfect for Hermione.

"Malfoy! Open this damn door!" Ah, right on schedule. Hermione stormed in and began to yell at him about the horrible time she had on her "date." Apparently, the night had started out fine enough, Blaise even acting the perfect gentleman at the beginning. Then he began mucking it up, as he always did, without fail. It was what Draco had been counting on.

"And then he leaned in and tried to kiss me!" she fumed.

"He kissed you?" Draco asked, surprised. Oh, Zabini was going to hear it. He wasn't supposed to kiss her! That wasn't part of the plan.

"He attempted to, but did not succeed," she said with a sniff. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Good. Zabini could keep his lips on his face after all.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking setting me up with him, Draco?" Draco shrugged and pretended to look abashed.

"I honestly didn't think that he would act that way." Lies. "He's usually so reserved." More lies. "I had no idea." He was going to hell for lying to that face. "Although, it's now starting to make sense why he's never able to keep a girl."

"I give up," she sighed.

"Oh, come on, Granger, you can't give up," Draco said, plopping down next to her.

"And why not? I've attempted to go on two dates and both have turned out badly. Stood up, manhandled…I can't even begin to think what would happen if I actually agreed to go out with Seamus." Over his dead body she was going out with that wanker.

"Well, you'll never know unless you try, Granger. Anyway, why don't we go out? It's still early yet and you're already dressed." Hermione grumbled and sat up, attempting to tame her wild hair. He'd never say it, but he thought her wild hair was rather adorable.

"I don't really feel up to it, Draco. I feel like shite."

"Well, you may feel like shite, but you look wonderful." And she did. Ginny must have dressed her since her clothes were skintight, accentuating her lovely shape. She always looked lovely, but tonight she was absolutely stunning. And, if he wasn't mistaken, she wasn't wearing a bra. Merlin, if he made it through the night without pawing at her like Zabini, he should be nominated for sainthood. "So let's go out. Live a little Granger."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, looking vulnerable all of a sudden. He was about to ask her what's wrong when she blurted it out.

"Ron cheated on me." Well, that took the wind out of his sails. Just when he thought he'd run out of bad things to say about Weasley, Hermione always gave him something else to hate him for.

"With whom?" Draco asked, his voice soft. Hermione let out a derisive and humorless laugh.

"Which time?" Draco's eyebrows shot up at that statement.

"All those time I broke up with him…he was cheating on me. With everyone. Lavender Brown quite a few times, some barmaid that had been working at the Leaky Cauldron, a few random girls he had met in pubs and such, once I had even found him with Cho Chang." He was livid. With each name, Draco grew more and more incensed at the man Hermione had mistakenly given her heart to. All those girls could never amount to the woman that Hermione was! How could he have tossed someone like Hermione Jean Granger to the side? Draco always knew that Weasley had absolutely no taste, but this was ridiculous. And what's more, he had all the more reason to punch Weasley right in his ugly, pointed nose the next time Draco had the misfortune of crossing his path. Draco took a glance at his best friend and saw the tears pooling in her eyes. Plot to kill Weasley later. Hermione needed his attention first.

In an instant, Draco had pulled her to his chest and felt her tears soak his silk shirt.

He let her.

He knew that ruining his silk shirts made her feel better.

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Draco woke up the next morning feeling as if everything was different, but he wasn't sure why. He opened his eyes, thankful that the sun hadn't fully risen yet, and immediately realized that someone was in bed with him. _In his bed_. He never invited women over to his flat other than Hermione, so how did…

He looked over and felt the air whoosh out of his lungs at the sight of Hermione Granger, the love of his life, cuddled up against his side, hugging his arm against her chest. She shifted slightly and he felt her nipple brush against his forearm through the satin dress she still wore. Thank Merlin she as still wearing that dress; he would have thrown a fit if they had had sex again and he didn't remember it.

He closed his eyes and tried to piece together the night before.

After having revealed the reason for her and Ron's break-up, and her subsequent crying fit, Draco had brought out a bottle of Ogden's Finest and distracted her with alcohol and hilarious anecdotes about the crazy things women did to get a rich man's – i.e. Draco's – attention. He was in the middle of telling her about how he and…and…shit, what was her name again? Oh, right…bloody Candi…had ended when she suddenly had the crazy idea to go to a Muggle karaoke bar.

At that point in time, they were both on a pretty good buzz having worked through almost the entirety of Draco's bottle and he was having a hard time keeping his feelings hidden from her. So he allowed Hermione to drag him through Muggle London, something he almost never does, and if so, only with Hermione and only with a lot of whinging. They finally made it to a slightly dingy looking establishment with the word "KARAOKE" blazing bright in its window in pink neon after what seemed like ages. Draco bought more drinks, Hermione sang a couple of songs, very badly, he might add, and laughed at her antics. They finally left after closing.

Draco screwed his eyes tighter as he tried to remember what happened next, but it only came in bits and pieces.

_Walking home._

_Hermione singing in the street._

_The two of them hugging in front of his flat door._

_Shower._

_Lips on his._

Draco opened his eyes. He remembered. They walked home after the bar had closed and he laughed as Hermione continued singing. Draco tried his best in his inebriated state to keep Hermione out of the street and on the sidewalk. They stopped in front of his flat door and Draco fumbled to get his key out. Hermione had pressed herself against his back and Draco froze as he felt all her soft curves conform themselves to his hard body.

"_Draco," she slurred. "You're so good to me."_

"_Of course, Granger. I'm your best friend." He turned around and hugged her close to him, the small part of his brain that was still sober praying that she didn't feel the effect her body had on his._

"_Mmhmm…my beeeeest friend. Better than Won-Won." Draco smirked. She was so adorable when she was drunk. "Why are you so nice and Ron is so mean to me? You used to ha-hate me."_

"_I didn't hate you, Granger," he said softly._

"_Yeah you did. You used to be mean, Draco Malfoy."_

"_Yes, I know. But I'm not anymore."_

"_No, you're not," she whispered. Her face was so close to his, her breath smelling of whatever that last fruity drink she had at the pub. He was sober enough to realize that having her that close was dangerous, especially in their states, and turned back to the door, finally getting it open._

_She immediately crashed onto the sofa and Draco smiled at her supine form before heading towards the shower. He had just stripped off his clothes and was about to step into the warm spray when he felt Hermione's feminine form once again press against his naked back._

"_Draco," she whispered as she ran her hands up and down his chest. He couldn't help the groan that came in reply._

"_Granger, you don't know what you're doing," he finally said in a strangled voice._

"_I do, Draco. I do. I'll always remember how delicious your bum looked before you stepped into the shower." Draco didn't dare say anything. Hermione wasn't in her right mind. There was no way that she was talking about the same incident that first made him notice her way back at Hogwarts._

"_It was the first time that I regretted being with Ron," she continued, still in a whisper. "You were so hot, but I knew that you would never look at me the same way. I knew your reputation." He was about to tell her that his reputation at the time had all been a lie. That Pansy had started it all and those other girls had followed suit. He dated a lot of girls, sure, but he hadn't slept with them. They had done lots of other things, yes, but never that. Of course, after he had slept with Hermione, his M.O. had changed. He was about to open his mouth and tell her everything, and then she spoke again._

"_Do you remember that night?" He didn't need to ask which night she was talking about. He would never forget that night._

"_I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that night."_

"_I know. But I remember that night. All the time."_

"_Me too, Hermione." She stepped around him and now stood in front of him, looking straight into his eyes._

"_You called me Hermione," she said, looking awed._

"_Well, yes. Don't I always? It is your name, after all." She slowly shook her head._

"_You almost never call me Hermione. You usually call me Granger." Draco swallowed, afraid that she would try to think of all the times that he had slipped and called her by her first name. All the times where he couldn't quite keep a hold on his feelings and allowed her to see the tenderness he usually felt for her. She couldn't find out. Not like this._

"_I like when you call me Hermione," she whispered. And then she threw her arms around his neck and met his lips with hers. Draco felt as if his world had been turned upside down. His brain was emptied of all coherent thought and all he was left with was instinct. He instinctually wrapped his arms around her small body, one around her waist and one dug through her hair, holding her head still. He instinctually began to move them out of the bathroom and to his bedroom. He instinctually threw her on the bed and began trailing his lips along every bit of exposed skin he could reach._

_His body reacted to every moan that expelled out of her mouth. He rubbed his erection against her thigh, which had been exposed as her dress had ridden up. His hands ran up her legs and under the hem of her dress, over her lacy panties. They both moaned at the contact. She was so wet and he could feel the heat emanating off of her center. He ran a finger lightly over her slit, to see her reaction. She only moaned louder at the contact. He pushed aside the fabric and rubbed with a little more pressure. Her hips arched off the bed as she tried to get his fingers to press harder, deeper. He quickly found her clit and rubbed around it in circles. Just as he knew she liked it. She was panting as his fingers moved against her and his mouth moved against that sensitive part of her neck and knew that she would come apart very soon. Moments later, she screamed his name, her body going rigid before she came down again and sank into this goose-feather down mattress._

_He was still hard, but couldn't bring himself to take advantage of her drunken state. He already felt horrible for what just happened. She had fallen asleep, anyway. With a sigh, he went back to the bathroom, where the shower was still running and the water had turned frigid. Good. He would need a cold shower after that._

_He finished quickly and donned some pajama bottoms, even though he usually slept nude. He didn't trust himself around Hermione right now and figured that the pajamas would act as a barrier of sorts. He eased himself into bed next to Hermione, all the while knowing that this could be a bad idea. She shifted around in her sleep and drowsily felt around before running her hand along his bare bicep. She shifted until she was cuddled against him and fell still again with a content smile on her face. Draco knew he was torturing himself by allowing her to continue sleeping in his bed, but he couldn't bring himself to move her. He gave himself this one concession. It wasn't as if he would get to do this again anytime soon. With that last thought, he finally fell asleep as well._

His hands came up and he rubbed his face roughly, trying to expel the images of what happened last night to the back of his brain, along with that first night he had with her at Hogwarts. He doubted she would even remember it in the morning, anyway, seeing as she was totally pissed. Even so, he needed to get out of this bed. He eased himself out from underneath her (Sweet Salazar, if that didn't bring up distracting images), pulled on a t-shirt, and padded out to the kitchen to fix something to eat.

It came as a surprise to many that Draco Malfoy could cook. But he figured that it was similar to Potions, his favorite subject in school. You just cut things up, measure them out and as long as you follow the recipe, you'll have perfect food every time. He took out ingredients to make omelets and within twenty minutes, he was done. He plated both dishes; mushrooms, cheddar, onions and sausage omelet for him and an egg-white omelet with spinach, mushrooms, grape tomatoes and feta for her (yuck), sides of toast (wheat for Hermione, of course), and rashers (Hermione's only vice). He put both plates on a tray and headed down the hall to his bedroom.

He stopped dead and nearly dropped the tray at the sight before him.

She stood in front of his bureau with his favorite t-shirt in hand, but other than the lacy knickers he admired last night, she wore nothing else. Her breasts were just as perfect as he remembered them, although they seemed to have increased a cup-size since their brief interlude in her dorm room. For a while, they just stood frozen, staring at each other. He knew that his eyes roamed her body, but it was as if he couldn't help it. It was like an impulse. She was naked and he had to look. He could feel his body reacting to hers again and he, again, he didn't try to stop it. His eyes finally met hers again and he saw the lust he felt reflected in her honey-colored orbs. He set the tray down gently on a nightstand and slowly walked towards her, giving her a chance to say something, do something, to stop him. She didn't.

As soon as he came within arms reach, he pulled her body to his again, and covered her mouth with his. He gently massaged her lips with his, gently laid his fingers against her chin, encouraging her to open her mouth against his. Their tongues tangled sensuously against each other and somehow it felt more intimate than what they had done last night. Kissing her felt _right_ and he wished that he could do this all the time, any time he wanted. But he knew, just as he knew last night, that they couldn't continue to do this, they couldn't ever be together, because of who he was and what his name stood for. Because he couldn't ever measure up to her. Because he knew that while things felt right, _he_ was _wrong_.

He felt her pushing against him and he let her. He closed his eyes, strengthening his resolve to keep things platonic, despite how explosive their kisses were. He opened them again, having successfully put his feelings on the back burner, where they belonged. He took a few more steps away from her before turning his back to her and stooping down to pick up the forgotten breakfast tray. Thankfully, when he turned back around, she was wearing a shirt. Unfortunately, seeing her in his favorite t-shirt was shaking the walls that were keeping in his thoughts and feelings for her.

"I made you breakfast," he said gently, looking anywhere but at her. He couldn't keep looking at her in nothing but those sexy panties and his t-shirt without wanting to jump her again.

"Thank you," she said, equally as quiet. _Wow…this is not awkward at all, _he thought sarcastically.

"I meant to wake you up with it…you know, breakfast in bed," he said, with a bit more humor in his voice. He finally looked at her face and caught her slight smile, knowing that she remembered that conversation. He hoped that she also knew that he was just kidding about her being un-romantic. She turned towards the bed and turned the covers down again before climbing in.

He stared at the bed. Images of the night before flickered through his mind, but he couldn't allow himself to think about that. Maybe later, after she had gone. It would make good wanking material, anyway. Finally, he gingerly sat himself above the covers. He didn't trust himself not to pull her body to his again if he felt so much as a toe brush against his leg. And as they talked as if nothing had happened and watched telly without really paying attention to what was going on, he decided that something need to be done about this. He couldn't take it anymore.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

"Hello, is Ginny Weas—er, Potter in?" Draco asked the bored-looking receptionist. As soon as Hermione left, he showered, dressed and Apparated himself to the offices of _The Daily Prophet_. He and the Weaslette weren't exactly friends, but he was desperate at this point and he figured that he needed to look at this situation from a girl's perspective.

Ok, that was a lie. He was just desperate.

The receptionist waved him in and he burst into Ginny's office without so much as a knock.

"Draco! What in Godric's name are you doing?"

"You're the only one I can turn to. I need help."

* * *

**We're almost at the end! I'm planning on this being just a three-shot, possibly with an epilogue. I haven't quite decided. We'll just have to see where the characters take me.**

**Don't forget to review! :]**

**A/N UPDATE [2/11/13]: Did some minor editing. Grammatical and spelling errors fixed. Hope I didn't miss anything.**


	3. Chapter 3: Ginny, Dates & Photographs

**A/N: OMG! YES, IT'S AN UPDATE! I apologize for the long wait, but, as I'm sure many of you know, life does not stop for fanfiction. School, work, family and the holidays have decided to get in the way of the brilliance that is this story. As well as a lack of creativity and a huge dose of procrastination. Just as a side note, so far, this one has been my favorite to write, next to Dreams of a Dishonest Man, unfinished though it is. But I digress. Read on, my friends.**

**Plan D is for Draco**

**Part Three**

Ginny Potter, née Weasley, had a plan.

It was very simple and it would count as one of the few she had made and actually seen through. She wasn't as adept at plan-making as Hermione, but damn it! Someone had to do something about those two! Seriously, one had to cut through the sexual tension with one of those light sword things from that film Harry liked so much. Star Battles? Space Wars? Something…all she knew was that there was some Voldemort type fellow and those cute teddy bear things.

What was she talking about again?

Oh, yes. Her plan. She smiled and looked up at the anxious looking blond sitting across her desk. Silly Draco. He was worrying over nothing.

"Malfoy, you really have nothing to worry about," she stated aloud.

"Weas…er…Potter…um…"

"Ginny…" Honestly, if there was any doubt that Draco was a natural blonde, then that about killed it.

"Ginny," he drawled with a roll of his eyes.

"Seriously, Malfoy, you've been best friends with Hermione for, what? Five years now? The least you could do is call me Ginny. It can get confusing when Harry and Ron are in the room."

"Right, Ginny…" He scratched his head, seemingly confused. Not the sharpest knife, was he? Of course, Ron was considerably worse, so she took pity on the poor boy and decided to help him out.

"So you kissed Hermione. So what?"

"I slept with her." Ginny rolled her eyes. Did he seriously think Hermione could keep that secret forever?

"Yes, I know that, too. And?"

"I'm in love with her."

"Anyone with eyes could see that, Draco. Question is: what are you going to do?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed.

They sat in silence for a few beats, Ginny sizing Draco up. Secretly, she thought Draco was perfect for Hermione. Ron lacked the class, charm, grace, and, not to mention, the looks Draco had. He also had so much more in common with Hermione than Ron, yet was different enough to compliment her perfectly. And Draco treated Hermione like a fucking princess. It went without saying that Ron, the pompous, chauvinistic ass that he was, did not.

All Ginny was waiting for was for Hermione to finally ditch Ron and realize Draco was perfect, too. But five years later and Draco was still panting after her, like an abused puppy seeking the affection it had so craved. So, Ginny thought she'd give him a hand.

"Don't worry, Draco. I'll take care of it."

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

Seven hours later, Ginny made a trip to Hermione's. She was going to get her to admit to loving Draco if it was the last thing she ever did.

"Hermione Granger!" she hollered out as soon as her feet found purchase on Hermione's ugly, beige carpet. Seriously, all the money this woman makes and she still hasn't replaced the carpeting with something more appealing? No wonder why Ron didn't like spending too much time here.

Anyway…

"Ginny, a little warning would be nice. What if I had thought you to be an intruder?" Ginny waved away her words.

"Well, I wasn't and I'm still in one piece. But what I want to know is why you still haven't called Seamus!" Yes, you're confused, but seriously…it's all part of the plan.

"I don't know, Gin. It just doesn't seem…right."

Ginny rolled her eyes. If Hermione was feeling guilty about dating one of her brother's friends, she was going to poke the girl's eyes out.

"What do you mean it doesn't seem right?" Hermione didn't answer. She seemed to be deep in thought. Ginny watched her face carefully and took note of the different emotions that passed across Hermione's expressive face; the girl always did wear her feelings on her sleeve.

Hermione winced and then gave a curt nod to herself, still looking quite unsure. Ginny guessed that she was thinking about Seamus' eyebrows. Sure, they've grown back, but they still looked a bit patchy. If it weren't for the fact that Ginny was trying to set Hermione up with _Draco_ and not Seamus, she would have told Hermione that she shouldn't hold Seamus' bad luck with potions against him.

Next, Hermione grimaced. Right, she was probably thinking about the fact that Seamus' hair was too close in color to Ron's. Considering that most days, Ginny hated her own hair color, she understood Hermione's concern.

Ginny pulled herself away from her chromatic concerns just in time to see Hermione shake her head violently. Ah, maybe this would be easier than Ginny originally thought. That is, if she was correct in assuming that Hermione realized that she didn't feel guilty because dating Seamus would be a betrayal to Ron, but maybe…

Hermione's eyes widened, followed by a blush. Bingo! She just thought of Draco. Oh, but now she's shaking her head again. Ginny inwardly sighed. Hermione was more stubborn than a mule.

"What do you mean it doesn't seem right, Hermione?" Ginny asked, allowing a bit of her irritation with the brunette to come through in her tone. Hermione finally turned to her and gave her a sheepish smile.

"It just doesn't." _Weak_, Ginny thought. She rolled her eyes.

"How could it not be more right? You're single, he's single, he's interested, and you need to get laid…"

"Ginny!"

"I'm not telling you to marry the man, Hermione. Just shag him and tell me all about it in the morning." **Please**_, _she thought, _tell me every detail. _From what she heard back at Hogwarts, what Seamus lacked in length, he made up for in girth. Parvati Patil swore that she felt she was going to be split in half.

"_And those Irish sure make use of their tongue for more than just gabbing, if you know what I mean…"_

Wow…was it getting hot in here?

"I don't know, Gin. It just wouldn't seem right."

"Hermione!" She whined. "You can't let my brother keep you from pursuing happiness. I know you had your plan and all, but you need to let him go." _Yes, and finally open your eyes, you oblivious witch, and see that the perfect guy has been in front of you all along! And then we can raise gorgeous babies together and spend all of your husband's money! _Ginny wanted to scream.

"It's not about Ron. I'm over all that and I'm definitely over him." Thank goodness.

"Then what's the problem?" Ginny slumped ungracefully onto the sofa next to Hermione.

"I just…I guess I just want to _feel _something. I want to feel excited whenever we touch, even if it's just a simple grazing of hands. I want to be able to imagine myself waking up to his face. I want to be able to imagine growing old with him and imagine what our children will look like, everything, Gin. I want the whole make-you-want-to-puke-it's-so-sweet package." Ginny perked up. Maybe her plan will work out before the next decade after all!

"That does sound really nauseating, actually," Ginny joked.

"I'm serious, Ginny!"

"Well, I'm serious, too. It's sweet, I suppose. And it's what you want. At least you know what you want. Is that why you stayed with Ron so long, despite him being a total ass? Because you saw that in him?" And if Hermione said yes, Ginny was going to challenge her "smartest witch of the age" moniker. Ron was_never_ going to be all of that for Hermione.

"I kissed Draco." That was _not_ an answer, but it worked towards Ginny's goal.

"Finally!" she blurted, for more than one reason.

"What do you mean, 'finally'? You thought this would happen?"

"Well, yeah, Hermione. You could cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife." Fuck the light sword thing analogy she had before. Too complex and Ginny was getting tired of all this back-and-forth.

"Well?" she said, impatiently.

"Well, what?" Hermione asked, truly looking confused. Honestly, this girl needed to get her nose out of her books more.

"Hermione, sometimes for the smartest witch of your generation, you sure can be obtuse. How was the kiss?" Hermione sighed heavily and a dreamy look came over her face.

"Amazing." _Now_ they were getting somewhere. "It was amazing, yet it felt weird at the same time." No! Stick with "amazing!" No weirdness allowed!

"How could kissing Draco Malfoy be weird? He's bloody gorgeous! And with his reputation, he couldn't possibly be bad!" Hermione winced and Ginny inwardly rejoiced as she recognized the brief look of jealousy. _Almost there, Granger._

"No, he's amazing. But…I don't know. I'm attracted to him the way I would imagine being attracted to a stepbrother. I feel as if I'm not supposed to be attracted to him even while, technically, it should be totally acceptable." Ginny nodded, pretending to understand. She didn't, really. And Hermione was over-thinking everything. This wasn't going to work. Ginny needed a new plan.

"Plus, there is your friendship to consider. Wouldn't want to muck that up."

"Exactly! I couldn't do that. I…I _need_ him, Gin. And I'm afraid that if we try to pursue this, one or both of us will muck it up and we'll end up the way Ron and I are now." Ginny was hardly listening, instead, formulating the adjustments to her plan. She stood and looked at Hermione resolutely. This simply _had_ to work, or she was giving up.

"Well, that settles it. There's only one thing to do now."

"What's that?"

"You're _definitely _going to call Seamus."

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

"_What did you do?_" Ginny sighed. She was really getting rather tired of being disturbed at work.

"What do you mean, Malfoy?" Ginny looked up into the face of the enraged blonde. She felt for him, really, she did. But he needed to start making appointments.

"I _mean_, Weaslette,_ why_ is Hermione going out with _Finnegan_ tonight? I thought you were going to help me!" He pouted and Ginny couldn't help thinking that it was no wonder Hermione never denied him anything; that face was really too hard to resist.

"Well, _Malfoy_, maybe I've decided that you're not good enough for Hermione, after all." Ginny was met with silence and almost felt bad at his dejected look. She continued on, anyway, hoping that this part of her plan would still work.

"Seamus has liked Hermione for a while and _he_ didn't wait until Hermione was old and grey before making his move. As soon as he found out that Hermione and Ron weren't together anymore, he expressed his interest, which is more than I can say for you, Malfoy. You claim to love her, but why is it that you've been pushing her to date other men? If you can't handle the fact that she's going out, trying to enjoy being single for once, why haven't you done anything about it?"

"Because I'm not good enough!" he yelled. Ginny was taken aback. Out of all the things she expected Malfoy to say, that was definitely not it.

"What do you mean? Of course you are…" Malfoy cut her off.

"I'm no good, Ginny," he said vehemently before sinking down into a chair. "Hermione is so pure and good. I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for my father's mistakes. I'm trying to rebuild the Malfoy name after Lucius destroyed it. I can't bring her into my mess. She's going to want to help, I know she is, but I can't let the taint of my name touch her, too." Ginny frowned, deeply disappointed in his lack of respect for Hermione's feelings.

"Don't you think that she should be the one to make that choice? She won't appreciate you making it for her." Draco shrugged.

"It's not like she feels the same way," he said dejectedly.

"Not like she feels…Oh, for the love of Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed. "You are both daft, deaf and BLIND to each other!" Draco's brow furrowed in both confusion and concentration, if such a thing were possible; Ginny could practically see the gears turning in his brain. And even still, he managed to look dead sexy doing it. Hot damn, Hermione Granger was one lucky bitch! If it weren't for the fact that Ginny was blissfully happy in her marriage to Harry Potter, she would have been insanely jealous.

"Well, what do you mean we're blind to each other? Has she told you that she feels the same way?" Draco asked, almost desperately. This was totally pathetic. This man used to swagger down the corridors of Hogwarts like he didn't think his shit stank and now he has been reduced down to his blubbering mess…over a woman he used to call a bushy-haired, know-it-all, Mudblood. The world was funny sometimes.

"You know what, Draco? I think I'm done helping you today. I'm quite out of patience for ridiculousness that is yours and Hermione's circular love life. If you don't want her to go out with Seamus, than you had better tell her so. The time has come to shit or get off the pot, Draco.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

Despite Ginny's rather blunt command, Draco did not tell Hermione anything of the sort. She decided to go with Finnegan of her own free will, so she must not feel anything, despite the Weaselette's insinuations. So rather than stay at home and wait for Hermione to Apparate into his living room to either bitch or rave about her date that night, Draco did something rather out of character.

He went out.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

It wasn't that Hermione wasn't having a good time. She was having a rather nice time, actually. Seamus took her to a lovely restaurant in Muggle London where they ordered seafood and white wine, listened to live music and danced after dinner. They then went for a stroll around a nearby park, where there happened to be some kind of mini festival going on. They looked at art done by some locals, watched children get their faces painted, tried some of the various foods offered, then rode the observation wheel and saw the city from the top. It was all incredibly romantic.

But all that Hermione could think about was getting back to Draco and telling him all about it. Or how Draco would have loved that particular art piece she had seen earlier and maybe she should ask Seamus if he minded going back so she could get it and surprise Draco with it later. Or how they ate peanuts and Draco was allergic, which had surprised her when she had first found out.

Draco, Draco Draco.

He was all she could think about and poor Seamus had been so nice tonight. She almost wished she could let herself fall for poor, nice, _safe_, Seamus. Because even if it didn't work out, it could be easy for Hermione to fall back into her normal routine. Because she would still have Draco as her best friend. And wasn't it funny, that even after knowing him for over half her life, and having dated him for seven years, now that they were definitely over, Hermione hadn't really given another thought to Ron once since they had broken up? It was as if a switch had been pulled and suddenly, she was overwhelmed by thoughts of Draco. As if she hadn't been allowed to think about it before, but now that she was unencumbered of Ron and his inability to commit, all the things that she knew about Draco had suddenly been brought to the forefront of her mind. Things she didn't realize she even knew about him, like his peanut allergy, suddenly popped into her mind at random intervals.

She shook her head, as if the physical action could actually dislodge her thought back to where they had been kept all this time, and tried to focus on her date. Yes, her romantic date with _Seamus_, not Draco. Seamus, who was now asking her a question.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Could you repeat that? I'm afraid I was woolgathering," Hermione replied sheepishly. Seamus smiled bashfully and shrugged up one shoulder as if to say it wasn't a big deal.

"I just asked if you still wanted to go back to that art booth." Hermione cocked her head to one side, as if to ask why.

"Well, you had mentioned a painting that you wanted…remember? For..._Malfoy_?" Hermione blushed. The way that Seamus had said Draco's surname reminded her that not everyone was as friendly with the Malfoy scion as she. Also, she hadn't realized that she had said her earlier thoughts about the painting outloud.

"Oh, I didn't realized I had said that out loud. But yes, if you don't mind, terribly, do you think we could go back to get it, please?" Seamus smiled and gave her one nod before holding out his arm for her to take. She replied back with a happy grin of her own and they walked arm in arm back to the artist's tent to make her purchase.

"You mentioned him a lot, you know," Seamus casually added as they walked back to Hermione's flat. Hermione looked down at the ground in attempt to hide her blush.

"What do you mean?" Seamus sighed.

"I mean that you haven't stopped talking about Malfoy all night." He didn't sound angry, which was good. He seemed more disappointed than anything.

"Well, Draco is my best friend. We spend a lot of time together, so I imagine that many of my stories would have included him. I'm sure I talk about Ginny and Harry just the same." Seamus shook his head.

"You love him, don't you?" Hermione laughed nervously.

"Well, of course I do, he's my best friend." They finally reached her flat and Seamus turned to face her.

"No, Hermione. I mean, you're _in_ love with him. Probably have been for a very long time. Maybe you haven't even realized it."

"Seamus, that's ridiculous. I can't have been in love with him for that long; I just broke up with Ron."

"Maybe not, but you didn't deny that you don't love him now." Hermione said nothing. What do you say to that?

"I'm not angry, Hermione. Disappointed, maybe. I should have told you I was interested in you back in school. You're the only one that has ever made me feel too nervous to say what I meant." He gave her a boyish smile that Hermione couldn't help but return. She gripped the painting she had bought to her chest and gave a great sigh.

"I had a wonderful time, Seamus. I'm just sorry that my heart couldn't be more involved." She shrugged, trying to make things seem more casual when inside, she was panicking. "I suppose it had made up its mind long ago and was just waiting for the rest of me to catch up." Seamus smiled sadly in return.

"I suppose. Thank you, Hermione, for giving me a chance."

"You're welcome." Seamus leaned forward to give her a peck on the cheek and enveloped her in a hug. Seamus had always given the best bear hugs.

"I think your head has finally caught up to your heart. You should tell Malfoy before it's too late." Hermione pulled back, wide eyed, and nodded. She placed her hand on Seamus' cheek.

"You're going to make some woman a fine husband someday, Seamus Finnegan. I'm just sorry it's not going to be me." The boyish grinned returned to his face.

"And that Malfoy is one lucky bastard."

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

Hermione entered her flat and sat heavily on her plush sofa. The sofa where Draco and she had spent many evenings, laughing, talking, and – on her part – crying. She looked around her home and realized that signs of Draco were everywhere. Pictures on the mantel of the two of them, books that she had borrowed from him and had yet to return, articles of clothing that he had left, like the scarf that his mother had bought him last Yule, even one of his shoes, though how that had been left behind, she wasn't sure. She walked up to the mantel, the painting still clutched to her chest, and observed each picture.

She, being the orderly, organized freak she was, had arranged the photos chronologically, evenly spaced. She started with the first, of her parents on their wedding day. She had found the picture a long time ago, as a little girl, and remembered loving how apparent their love was for one another. She had told her mother that she someday wished to have a love like that.

"And someday, Hermione, you will." Her mother had given her the photo as a reminder that someday, she would find someone who would make her feel the way her mother felt at that exact moment in time. "Someday you will find someone who will make you feel as if you were flying and falling at the exact same moment." Hermione smiled and moved on to the next one.

This one was of her parents holding a newly born Hermione. The love still very apparent, but it was also different from the love seen in the previous picture. Even as a child, she could tell the difference.

"Someday, mum," she had said as a young girl, "I want to be able to say that I've felt every kind of love there is." Her mother had smiled.

"I want that for you, too, babe."

Hermione could feel the tears welling up in her eyes at the beautiful memories and mentally noted that she should call her mother and make a visit to Chelsea soon. Quickly, she moved on to the next one. It was of her fifth birthday. It had been the first time she had shown signs of magic. Her parents had thought it to be a fun idea to invite a magician to perform at their daughter's birthday. Hermione, being the curious person she was from birth, had demanded to know how the magician had accomplished all of his tricks. Of course, the man had smugly told her that "a magician never reveals his secrets" and patted her on the head. A moment later, cards, handkerchiefs and doves all went flying out of every opening in the man's clothes; from the cuffs of his jacket, the pockets of his trousers, even the collar of his crisp, white shirt. The flustered man had stated that that was the last trick of the day and left without his payment from Hermione's parents.

Moving on, the next was taken on her first day of Hogwarts, with the bright, red Hogwarts Express as the backdrop. And if she looked hard enough, she could just make out Harry stepping out of the enchanted wall and onto the platform in the far corner. The next was the first magical photo, taken by Colin Creevey during their second year at Hogwarts. Shortly after it had been taken, Colin was found petrified with his camera still held up to his face. He had given copies to the trio as gratitude for saving his life, even if they really hadn't done anything to particularly help him, per se.

The next was taken at the Leaky Cauldron, the summer before they had all started their third year. Ron looked a bit grumpy since she had just bought Crookshanks, who could be seen in the background, eyeing Ron's pocket. Hermione's smiled faded slightly as she thought of her beloved pet, whom she had had to put to rest last year. Ron had completely brushed it off, saying that the cat had been old and a nuisance anyway. Instead, Draco had attended the small funeral she held for her old familiar and even gave a short eulogy about how he had liked the cat when they had shared a dorm together and continued to appreciate his loyalty to his best friend.

The next was of Hermione and Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball her fourth year. She and Viktor were smiling and dancing. It was another taken by Creevey and given with still more thanks for saving his life two years prior. She shook her head with a bit of fondness. She was glad that Creevey had finally gotten over his starry-eyed view of the trio since the war. He was a decorated war hero as well, after all.

Moving on, there was a photo of Dumbledore's Army, given after the war had ended, as Colin hadn't thought it safe to distribute proof of who might have been trying to rebel during those times. At first, it was a precaution against Umbridge, then the news that Voldemort had returned was publicly acknowledged, then Hogwarts had been overtaken by Death Eaters. It was only appropriate that Colin had waited as long as he had to give each member a copy of the picture. She skipped quickly over the next two (the trio after a Quidditch practice during their sixth year and the three of them with Ginny at Bill and Fleur's Wedding) so she could study the next picture.

It was the first that she and Draco had ever taken together. That Christmas, they had both gone home for the holidays. She had missed him terribly, which had surprised her. Up until that point, they had just been two people who had occasionally studied together and just so happened to be living together. But she found that she missed their debates, even if, more often than not, they left her mostly annoyed with him. She missed his witty comebacks that sometimes left her with no retort. She missed their intellectual conversations during their study sessions in the library. She really, truly missed him and was eager to see him when they returned to school. They seemed to have surprised each other by greeting each other with their first hug. They made small talk by discussing their holidays and showing each other some of the gifts they received. The last thing Draco showed her was a camera given to him by his mother.

"I haven't used it yet, Granger. Care to christen it with me?" Hermione smiled and they both moved to sit on the sofa. After some awkward moves, they managed to position themselves into what seemed to be a casual pose and took the picture. As Hermione looked at the photo now, she watched as the younger version of herself made a miniscule move to snuggle further into Draco's side as he put what seemed to be a friendly arm around her shoulders. Photo Draco then turned to look at Photo Hermione and it was then that Hermione saw it, clear as day: love. Hermione gasped and stepped back, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing. She continued to look on to the rest of the photos across her mantel. Most of them were of Draco and herself and in every single one, that same look passed across his face as the photo version of her best friend turned to look at her. And in every single one, the photo version of herself never seemed to notice.

Hermione sat down heavily on the sofa, her mind reeling. How was it possible that she had missed that all these years? And did Draco really love her? Did she really love Draco, like Seamus said?

"_Someday you will find someone who will make you feel as if you were flying and falling at the exact same moment."_

It had been so long since she had thought about that moment. She had never even stopped to consider if she had felt that way about Ron. Did she?

The answer, she realized with a sudden clarity, was that no, she did not.

But Draco did.

In that instant, so many years ago, when his lips had first touched hers, she recalled that feeling…as if she was flying and falling at the exact same moment. Her head felt light, her stomach fluttered as if it had a million Cornish pixies flying around, her heart began to beat rapidly. She hadn't been able to tell what was up or down.

The day after, she had attributed it all to the alcohol, but deep down, she knew better. Just as now, she knew better.

All this time, she had been in love with Draco Malfoy.

All this time she had been wasting it with Ron, making life plans revolving around a man who couldn't even commit to her and continued to break her heart again and again. What could have happened if she had just admitted what she knew she felt back then? Would they be together? Would they be married by now? Would she have had beautiful, blond-haired, brown-eyed, Malfoy children by now? Her mind was racing while her subconscious was calling her _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! _There was only one thing to do now: take Seamus' advice and tell him before she wasted anymore time.

She rushed to her room to check her appearance and smoothed down her dress and hair. Luckily, she was still dressed for a date, so she knew she'd be presentable. And, fortunately, Ginny had forced her into some risqué lingerie, so if tonight turned out positively, she might even be able to put it to use. At that thought, she blushed deeply and tried to shake off her nerves. Because she was very nervous. What if she was wrong about his feelings?

"No," she told herself out loud. "If I'm wrong, and I'm usually not, then we'll go back to the way we were. We did it once, we can do it again." She blushed again at the double meaning behind her last statement and took a deep breath in. With one last cursory glance in the mirror, she hitched the painting closer to her chest and Apparated on the spot to Draco's door. She figured that for an announcement like the one she was about to make, it would be better to build up to it, first, so she would knock on the door, like any other guest.

As she waited for him to answer, she began to mentally plan what she would say. Suddenly, she decided that for the first time in her life, she wasn't going to plan every moment to death. For the first time in her life, she would be spontaneous and wing it. She was sure that the words would just come to her.

Her brow furrowed as she realized that he still hadn't answered the door. He never took so long before. Granted, she had never actually used the door except for when he had first moved in, as the wards had been set so she could Apparate directly in. She knocked again, for good measure and decided that if he didn't answer, she would just go ahead and let herself in. She was beginning to lose her nerve.

_Ten more seconds, and I'm Apparating, _she mentally decided.

10…

9…

What if he wasn't home? She hadn't stopped to consider that.

7…

6…

Well, if he wasn't home, she'd make sure that she would greet him when he finally arrived, that's what.

5…

4…

Have two fingers of Firewhiskey in his favorite double old fashioned glass with just three cubes of ice, just as he likes it, ready for him, as she wore nothing but the ridiculously expensive lingerie she was beginning to be very thankful towards Ginny for forcing her to wear tonight, and a smile.

3…

He would smirk in that sexy way of his and take three deep strides towards her.

2…

Then he would put his arms around her waist and tell her…

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Hermione was shaken out of her fantasy by a voice that was definitely too feminine to be Draco's. She turned to the open door and couldn't help allowing her jaw to fall open in shock.

There, holding open the door to Draco's flat, to which he had always swore up and down he had never invited other women besides Hermione and his mother, was a nameless, blond…_bimbo_…wearing nothing but sexy lingerie and the shirt Hermione had bought Draco for his last birthday.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

**A/N: And that is where I will leave it for now. *evil cackle***

**I apologize again for the late update. I hope it was too your liking. I kind of rushed it a bit, knowing how eager you all are to read what comes next. It's almost over! Booo...I know.**

**Anyway, if you are reading this and have been trying to contact me for beta'ing purposes, let me apologize for my late replies. I've been busy, okay?**

**Plus, I'm not really interested in stories that aren't D/Hr. Sorry.**

**Also, I don't speak Brazilian. Don't ask me to translate your story into English. That's what Google translate is for.**

**Well, that's enough of that. It's about four in the morning here and I'm trying to stay up all night and all day tomorrow in attempt to regulate my sleeping patterns. We'll see how this experiment goes.**

**So far, I've ranted quite a bit here, which means I'm reaching the point of delirium.**

**Okay, okay. I'm going. Bye.**


	4. Chapter 4: These Three Words

**A/N: Hello loyal readers! (And new readers!) I'm so sorry for this late update. You have no idea how hard a time I've been having closing the story out. I had the last few lines set in my mind, but the lead up to that point was rough. Anyway, it's finished! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Now, I just have to finish my other stories :P**

**Read, enjoy, review!**

* * *

**Plan D is for Draco**

**Part Four**

_Draco Malfoy is a dead man_, Ginny Potter thought, as she listened to her friend weep in anguish as she told her story. The goal was to force Draco to realize that he needed to tell Hermione how he felt, not run off with another airheaded slut! _Maybe he really _isn't _good enough_.

"And the absolute worst part is that I had gone over there to tell him that I loved him, Ginny! I love him. I am in love with Draco Malfoy."

_**THREE DAYS AGO…**_

Hermione blinked, as if doing so would clear away the sight she couldn't believe was actually before her. Draco _never_ brought women home with him. If he decided to sleep with some random girl he picked up in a pub, he always, _always_, went to their place. Candi, who, while nothing truly serious, had been the closest thing to relationship Draco had had in at least two years and even _she_ had never seen his place. So to say that Hermione was surprised to see this…this…_stranger_ in his home was an understatement.

"Oh. My. God!" the slut…er…girl suddenly exclaimed. "You're Hermione Granger! I can't believe I'm meeting you!" The girl took Hermione's limp hand and started shaking it vigorously up and down while going on about how her friends will just _die_ as soon as they hear about her meeting someone as famous as she. Hermione couldn't respond. She couldn't move. It was as if her brain had ceased to function. She was seriously at a loss. Feelings of confusion, anger, sadness, disappointment, and, most of all, hurt invaded her body all at once. She couldn't be here anymore. She needed to get out of here.

"Anyway, so what are you doing here? Do you want to come in?" The girl was inviting her in like she owned the place!

"No," Hermione finally croaked out, her eyes already pricking with tears. "No, I seem to have made a mistake. I'll just be going now. Sorry for the interruption."

"Oh, you weren't…" But Hermione was already walking away as quickly as she could to the elevator. Too distraught to even think about Disapparating, Hermione walked home, which she realized now wasn't too far. On the way, it had begun to rain, which was just as well. No one could tell that she was crying.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

No one had heard from Hermione in two days. Her floo had been blocked off, her wards had changed so that no one could Apparate within a 20 foot radius of her flat. (Thinking on it now, it was lucky that she lived in a mostly Muggle building otherwise that particular ward would have been problematic.) She unplugged her home telephone, switched off her mobile, and didn't even turn on her computer lest she see an errant email that might make her think about _anything_. All she could manage was the same cycle of eat, stare off into space, use the bathroom, sleep. And the eating part, she often forgot. She had called into work, which she had _never_ done in her entire career, and, gracious hero worshippers that they were, informed her that she had racked up quite a bit of vacation time and that she should use it. So now, Hermione was technically on a two-month vacation.

_Best vacation ever, _she thought wryly.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by the _pop_ of Apparition and a banging on her door. Her first thought was that maybe Draco had come by to apologize and her treacherous mind perked up. Then she realized how ridiculous that sounded; Draco didn't even know that she had come by that night, in fact, didn't even know that she was angry with him. The pounding continued and Hermione finally decided to drag herself up to answer it. She was just within arm's reach when she heard his voice.

"Hermione? It's me, Draco. Open up. There seems to be something wrong with your wards. I can't Apparate in." Hermione froze. Literally froze where she stood, arm about halfway to opening the door. All the feelings flooded back into her body, paralyzing her. She couldn't open the door. Couldn't even move her mouth to form the words, "Fuck off!" which she so desperately wanted to say.

"Hermione, are you there?" Draco asked. "Listen, I'm really worried about you. I haven't spoken to you in days. I know you're in there because you're not at work and I called Ginny, who said you weren't at hers either. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right." Hermione finally unfroze, only to slide down the door to listen to his melodic voice float through from the other side.

"I know I'm not very good at this whole sharing of feelings bit, but I do care, Hermione. I _care_, you know? And I hope that whatever is bothering you clears up soon. I…I miss you." And as Hermione listened to his footsteps as they walked away from her door, she felt her heart begin to throb and the tears stream down her face.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

The very next morning, Hermione received a Howler from a very vocal Ginny Potter. To be honest, Hermione was amazed that it had taken Ginny this long. She let the owl in, who quickly dropped its missive on her kitchen table and took off without a snack. _Smart bird_, she thought. Hermione nibbled on her toast and stared dubiously at the bright red envelope, dreading what Ginny had to say. She quickly closed the windows and finished the spell to make her flat soundproof just as the envelope burst open and Ginny's shrieking voice filled the room.

"_**HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! WHERE IN THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? DRACO, HARRY AND I HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU! YOU CALLED IN SICK TO WORK WHEN YOU WERE PERFECTLY FINE LAST WEEK! AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT NEVER IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE HAVE YOU EVER CALLED IN SICK! YOU SHUT OFF YOUR PHONE, YOU CLOSED YOUR FLOO, YOU CHANGED YOUR WARDS, ALL WITHOUT ANY NOTICE OR WARNING WHATSOEVER! IF YOU HAVE DIED, NONE OF US WOULD KNOW AND I THINK THAT YOU'RE BEING VERY SELFISH FOR NOT TELLING US ANYTHING. I KNOW YOU'RE HOME BECAUSE THE DAILY PROPHET IS STILL RECEIVING PAYMENTS FROM YOU, SO I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS LETTER, MISSY! AND YOU STILL NEED TO TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DATE WITH SEAMUS! IF IT WASN'T FOR THE FACT THAT HE'S BEEN COMING INTO WORK LOOKING DISAPPOINTED AND FORLORN, I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT YOU TWO HAVE BEEN SHACKED UP TOGETHER IN YOUR FLAT ALL THIS TIME MAKING WILD MONKEY SEX! IF YOU DON'T REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE WITHIN THE NEXT 24 HOURS, I WILL PERSONALLY GO DOWN TO YOUR FLAT AND KNOCK YOUR DOOR DOWN WITH THE STRONGEST BOMBARDA I CAN MANAGE! AND THAT'S ONLY IF DRACO DOESN'T BEAT ME TO IT! SO YOU'D BETTER CALL EITHER MYSELF OR HIM IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU!"**_

Finally, Ginny's tirade ended at the Howler shriveled up into tiny, charred strips onto her table. She sighed heavily and swept up the mess with a napkin before cleaning up what remained of her pathetic breakfast of burnt toast and black coffee. Ginny was right, she knew; she was being very selfish not letting them know that she was perfectly fine except for her shattered heart. But didn't she deserve, just this once, to be able to be selfish? She had been bending over backwards to help everyone else her entire life, she felt that it was about time that she did something for herself. And the first thing she was going to do was go treat herself to a spa day.

After replying to Ginny, of course.

She quickly went into her office, wrote a short missive stating that she was fine, just needed some time to gather herself and would she be so kind as to give her a few days to herself, sent it off with her owl and walked out the door. Just down the road from her building was a salon that she had always passed by, but had never had the time to actually go in. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was just barely ten, so the place had just opened. She pulled open the door confidently, hoping that this was a sign that things were finally going to go her way.

The staff were very friendly and had a way of speaking that seemed to just calm her nerves. She started off with a facial, which cooled her skin and made her feel as if years of stress had just evaporated away. Next, she visited the waxing station, and, after blushing so hard she resembled Ginny's hair, told the woman to rid her of every single hair that wasn't growing from the top of her head. After that, she had a much needed massage and felt so relaxed, she nearly fell asleep on the table. After apologizing profusely, the kind masseuse calmly informed her that it happened all the time. After a few moments of debate, she finally decided on getting a hair cut. She had been wearing her hair the same way since as far back as she could remember; even before her Hogwarts days, her hair had always been boring, bushy, brown, parted down the middle with split ends scattered all over the place. Remembering the way the ditz at Draco's wore her hair, sleek and not a follicle out of place, Hermione stuck her chin up and told the hairdresser to do whatever she wanted.

"Just get rid of this mop!" she said, with the first smile she had allowed herself since that night. And thirty minutes later, Hermione felt like she was looking at a completely different person. And she hadn't even gone through make-up yet.

Her hair, while not exactly pin-straight, fell in a subtler manner, just barely passing her shoulders, in thick, shiny layers. The stylist had parted her hair a bit off to the side and added bangs, swept over her right eye. Also added were a few highlights, bringing out the color in her cheeks and her eyes, which were finally beginning to show signs of life again. So even if Draco ended up finding someone else, for the first time, Hermione felt that she could actually go out and feel like an attractive woman. Who knows, maybe she'll call up Seamus again. They had a nice enough time the other night, despite how it had ended.

She contemplated her options as she was escorted to make-up. The make-up artist was a thin, almost skeletal, man, who looked to be in his late twenties and had more sass than anyone she had ever met. She couldn't keep from giggling as the man, Arnold – "but no one except my mother calls me that, so call me Arnie" – regaled her with horror stories of making-up the rich and famous.

"So who are we dolling up for, hmm?" he finally asked after showing her how to correctly apply a fake eyelash. Hermione looked down at her hands and blushed.

"No one, really. There's just this guy…"

"Oh, sweetheart, there always is." Hermione smiled and continued on.

"Well, he's my best friend. And I was going to tell him that I realized that I've been in love with him all this time."

"…But…" Arnie drawled out.

"But…when I got there, another woman answered the door. And he _never_ invites other women over!"

"What made you realize in the first place?" Hermione blushed harder.

"Actually, I was on a date with someone else and he had to tell me I was in love with Draco." Arnie froze.

"_Draco_? As in Draco _Malfoy_?" Hermione cocked her head to the side.

"You know of him?"

"Honey, _everyone_ knows Draco Malfoy," Arnie gushed. "Muggle or not," he added with a whisper and a wink. Hermione relaxed, feeling more like she could be herself.

"Well, I assume, then, that you knew who I was this entire time." Arnie rolled his eyes.

"Of course, doll. I had elbow Frida and Mandy out of the way just to make sure I made it to you first." Hermione giggled.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I enjoyed talking to you. And thank you for the make-up lesson. I really needed it." Arnie waved his hand in the air as if brushing her statement away.

"Rubbish, you were stunning even before I touched you. Now you're ready to knock Mr. Malfoy dead off his feet."

"Oh, I don't know…" Arnie swiveled her around so she could look directly into the vanity mirror.

"Hermione, look at yourself. Judging by what I've seen in all the papers over the years, that boy is just as much in love with you as you've finally realized that you are with him. I don't have any explanation for the slut, but then again, neither do you. And you'll never know unless you go over there and tell him exactly what you want. The worst that can happen is that he'll say he's changed his mind and that would be his great loss." Hermione stood and smiled before giving Arnie a hug.

"Thank you for everything, Arnie."

"Yes, well, you'll need to come back in two weeks for a touch up on those roots anyway. Let me know how everything goes."

After paying and leaving a hefty tip, Hermione walked out of the shop feeling lighter and more confident than she had ever felt before. She impulsively hopped on the tube and decided to stop at Oxford Street for some serious retail therapy. It only made sense to get a new wardrobe to go with her new look. She almost wished that she had called Ginny so she could get a second opinion on things. And for a second, she wished that she had Draco with her, who never had any problem telling her what looked good and what didn't. She sighed, once again telling herself that this was her day, and she wasn't going to spend it thinking about anyone else.

She bought skirts that rode a bit higher than she was used to, slacks that fit more snugly than she had worn them before, and dresses that were much flirtier than she had opted for in the past. She tried on blouses that were cut lower than she might have been comfortable with, shoes that were much higher than she thought she'd ever wear and even threw in some lingerie. She only stopped when she felt she could carry no more and hailed a cab to take her home. Glancing at her watch, she realized that it was nearly six and she hadn't eaten anything since that poor excuse for a breakfast that morning.

She pulled out her mobile and switched it on for the first time in nearly a week. Immediately, she noticed that her voicemail inbox was full. She rolled her eyes and listened to them, promptly deleting the few that were left by Draco as soon as she heard his voice. Most of the others were left by Ginny, but there were a few that were from Harry, one from Seamus and one from Ron. At that one, Hermione rolled her eyes and deleted his message before he had finished saying he was sorry. _Sorry, not falling for that this time,_ she thought with gleeful satisfaction.

She finally made it home and the driver helped her with her bags, thanking her when she included a nice tip with her payment. As soon as she walked into her flat, she noticed the mess she had made over the past few days as she walked around like a zombie robot. She immediately went into cleaning mode and wiped everything down, picked everything up, even vacuumed, all before she put away her shopping. She even managed to pull out all the clothes she decided she'd never wear again and packed them in a garbage bag, decision about what was to become of them to be made at a later date.

It was half eight when Ginny finally called her. After listening to a second rendition of her tirade, Hermione accepted an invitation to a late dinner at the Potter residence. (Both Harry and Ginny worked late that night, the former on a tough Auror case, the latter on deadlines she had been procrastinating on.) She Apparated into their living room and was immediately engulfed in a hug by a flash of red hair.

"Don't ever disappear like that again!" she scolded. "We were all worried sick!"

"So you've said," Hermione said with a chuckle. Ginny took a step back and took in Hermione's appearance.

"You look good. But judging by the looks that both Seamus and Draco have been carrying around this week, this isn't for either of them. Hermione, have you been hiding something…or someone from me?" Hermione laughed again.

"No, I just decided to treat myself to a spa day with a bit of retail therapy today." Ginny gave her a look.

"Sounds serious. But tell me after dinner. I'm starved!"

The three of them sat down to a wonderful pasta dinner that Ginny had quickly made up. They all talked about how work had been going and Hermione was given updates on how everyone in the Wesley family was doing. As Harry cleared the table and brought out dessert, Ginny's eyes became excited. Hermione sensed that she had news, but seeing as how lately Ginny had been making her a personal project, Hermione wasn't sure if it would be good or bad.

"Hermione, one of the reasons we decided to have you over tonight, I mean, aside from making sure you were alive," Ginny began. Hermione rolled her eyes at her dramatics.

"Well, we have some news," Harry finished. Realization dawned on Hermione and she knew what they were going to say before the words even left their lips.

The gaze that they gave each other was familiar; the gaze that her parents had in their eyes in that second picture of their mantle.

"We're having a baby!" they said in unison. Hermione began to tear up and quickly rose to give each of her friends a hug and a kiss in congratulations. But while she was so happy for them, that feeling of melancholy that she had been feeling all week began to sneak back up on her. When will she ever feel that love? She had said that she had wanted to feel every kind of love there was, but she had yet to grasp the one that she had only realized days ago. At the very least, she needed to tell Draco that she loved him. Perhaps Arnie was right; what if there was more to the story than what she had seen? Although, what she had seen was pretty damning.

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice brought her back to the present, happy moment. "Are you all right?" Hermione looked at the happy couple, currently showing concern and, once again, began to tear up.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I'm just so happy for you!" Ginny narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Damn her for knowing her so well.

"Okay…" Ginny dragged out the word, causing Hermione to squirm in her seat. How did Ginny always manage to make her feel like a child with a secret? She wasn't a mother quite yet! "Why don't you tell me about your date with Seamus then?"

Harry, wise man that he was, chose that moment to retreat to the kitchen to start on the dishes. Ginny settled into her chair as Hermione hesitantly began going over the events of the night. Twenty minutes later, she was ruining her makeup, tears coursing down her face, remembering the pain of opening the door and finding another woman in _her_ domain.

Yes, Draco Malfoy was _hers_, damn it, and that woman was definitely trespassing!

"…I am in love with Draco Malfoy." A sudden clatter startled the two women, who were so totally engrossed in their conversation that they hadn't noticed when another person had entered the flat.

"You're…you're _what?_" The women turned to the new guest and Hermione turned scarlet.

"Um…hello…" she greeted, weakly.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

_**THREE NIGHTS AGO…**_

_This was a bad idea_, Draco thought, as, yet another ditzy, yet attractive, and most probably gold-digging woman sauntered up next to him, rubbing her, most probably fake, breasts against his uninterested person. He rolled his eyes and moved further down the bar, nursing his Firewhiskey, wishing more than anything for Hermione to be sitting right next to him. Feelings aside, Hermione was great at acting as a buffer between him and the riff-raff. He snorted into his drink, remembering that Hermione was the reason he was drinking here, alone, in the first place. Hermione and sodding _Finnegan_. He sighed and stared hard at the scarred wood of the bar, tracing over some vulgarities that some drunken sods had thought clever to carve into the surface.

"Heavy sigh, heavy heart," a voice to his left quietly said. Draco slowly turned, already weary of this game these women were playing.

"Quite," he said shortly. The woman tilted her head to the side, seeming more curious than calculating.

"Would you like to talk about it? I'm a great listener." Draco studied the woman next to him. She was pretty, he could say. There seemed to be a bit more intelligence in her eyes than the iota the rest of the women who had approached him tonight seemed to share. And it could just be that he was in a self-pitying mood, but she seemed to actually care than he was a bit down. And, what the hell, he could always blame it on the alcohol later. He took a deep breath and began telling this complete stranger his story.

"See, there's this woman…" he started. The woman's smile seemed to falter a bit, but she nodded for him to continue.

"There's this woman, and she's been my best friend for the past five years, now. And for the past five years, I've been completely in love with her."

"Does she know this?" Draco took another long drink, emptying the glass, before motioning to the bartender for another. If he was going to get this story out, he might have to be pissed drunk.

"Of course she doesn't. I've been too stupid, too much of a coward to tell her. Besides, she's been with that sodding plonker up until a month ago."

"Well, why didn't you tell her then? She's single now, right? Maybe now is your chance." Draco shook his head and tossed back another shot, relishing the numbing burn as it trickled down his throat.

"Nope, can't. Not good enough."

"What's not good enough?" Draco was really starting to feel it. He laughed at the girl's statement. Wow…when did her twin get here?

"Not what, you bint. _Me_. _I'm_ not good enough for _her_. Fucking perfect Hermione Granger is too good for Draco." The girl tilted her head to the side again, her look just as calculating as the rest. Draco, in his drunken state, didn't notice. He simply motioned to the bartender for another drink.

"I think he's had enough," the bartender said gruffly to the girl. "I think it's about time you take him home." The girl turned to Draco, smiling sweetly.

"Come on, Draco. Let's go home." Draco shook his head.

"Don't wanna go home. 'Cause then I'll think 'bout 'Mione and stupid Fin'gan." The girl continued to tug on his arm until he began to follow.

"It's okay, Draco. Take us to your place and I'll help you forget."

They stumbled out the door and Draco somehow managed to get them back to his place. After trying, and failing, to use his keychain to open the lock, the girl gently took the keys out of his hand and opened his door, leading him into his flat. Leaving the girl behind, Draco went straight to the loo where he proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. After that sobering experience, he rinsed out his mouth and took a Pepper-Up Potion to stave off the last effects of the alcohol. He stayed in the bathroom for a little while longer, simply staring at his reflection, disgusted by his behavior. _No more_, he vowed. Tomorrow, when Hermione came to tell him about her date, good or bad, he was going to tell her he loved her and pray to every deity, Muggle and Magical alike, that she felt the same way.

He exited the bathroom just in time to hear the door shut. He hoped that his guest had taken the hint and let herself out. As the girl came into view, he froze. There she was, standing by his front door, wearing his favorite shirt. A shirt that Hermione had given him, hence why it was his favorite.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, deadly calm. The girl giggled.

"I'm helping you forget, Draco. Don't you remember?" She began to slink towards him in what he assumed was supposed to be a sexy manner. All it did was increase his anger with every approaching step.

"I don't need your help in that regard. In fact, the only thing I want to forget is this entire night, and that includes ever meeting you, you skanky bint. Please remove my shirt, put your own clothes back on and leave. Now." The girl huffed and quickly turned to do as he said, slamming the door behind her. Draco sank into the sofa, rubbing his hands down his face.

_Note to self, never get pissed in public without a chaperone._

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

He hadn't heard from Hermione in two days. He had assumed that she would come running to him immediately after her date, with either good news or bad. Of course, he had hoped that it had gone badly because even if he wasn't in love with her and wanted her for herself, she should not, could not, find her happily ever after with feckin' _Finnegan_. He had waited a day, a sick feeling filling him up as he came up with multiple scenarios as to why she wasn't able to call him immediately after her date had ended.

_Maybe it didn't end? Maybe they got on so well that he had taken her straight to bed and they haven't stopped going at it since? _

Draco shook his head. Hermione wasn't like that.

_Maybe on they've been involved in some freak accident and no one has found their mangled bodies yet._

While he didn't care if Finnegan survived, Draco's stomach twisted in knots as he imagined Hermione's body left in a ditch somewhere, all the life gone from her brilliant eyes. He began to pace around his flat, hoping – praying – that she would call and let him know that she was all right.

After the second day of not hearing from his best friend, he decided to man up and try to contact her himself. He tried Apparating over, but found himself unable to. Not so strange since she often did so when she had a particularly nasty row with Weasley. Maybe her date went horrible. Draco couldn't help but feel gleeful at that thought.

Anyway…

Floo was out since it made sense to shut off both it and the Apparition wards. He picked up the mobile that he only really used to call Hermione and hit the speed dial for her number.

Straight to voicemail.

He left a message, knowing that his confusion was very apparent in his tone. My, either the date went as bad as any date could go or Ron was trying to harass her again.

He called her home phone and it was off the line.

He sent her a few emails and they were left unanswered.

He called the Potters, still unsure as to why he had their number in the first place, looking for Hermione. Ginny had answered and went into a twenty minute rant about how worried she was that Hermione hadn't contacted them in days. She had even called out sick to work! That, more than anything, concerned him. Hermione _never_ called out sick. Not even the time she had such a bad flu, she couldn't breathe out of her nostrils and he had spent the afternoon dragging a humidifier behind her as she puttered around her office. They had ordered in soup and Draco had to go out for more tissues twice, but it was worth it to be able to take care of this woman who was so reluctant to ask others for help. Even when he had caught her flu and was sicker than she a week later, it was worth it.

He sighed heavily, knowing that even if it was a pain in the ass, he would go through the trouble anyway because he wanted to see her. So he got dressed, hailed a taxi and rode the ten minutes to her apartment building, climbed up four flights of stairs and knocked on her door.

"Hermione?" he called through the closed door. "It's me, Draco. Open up. There seems to be something wrong with your wards. I can't Apparate in." He paused, allowing her to realize that it wasn't Finnegan or Weasley at the door, so it would be safe to answer. But there was no reply. Maybe she was asleep?

"Hermione, are you there?" Draco called again. He pressed his ear against the door to listen for movement. He caught the light rasp of fabric shifting. She was listening at the door, but not opening it. Draco's brow furrowed in concern. She'd never been so distraught over a fight with Ron that she refused his company. "Listen, I'm really worried about you. I haven't spoken to you in days. I know you're in there because you're not at work and I called Ginny, who said you weren't at hers either. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right." Still no answer. Maybe she was angry with _him? _ Maybe Ginny was right and she _did_ feel the same way about him as he for her. Or at least marginally, because he didn't think anyone loved another person as much as he loved Hermione. (_Oh, God, shoot me now for that sappy thought_.) And now she was upset with him because he still hasn't said anything. He sighed and thumped his forehead against the door.

"I know I'm not very good at this whole sharing of feelings bit, but I do care, Hermione." While he wouldn't tell her he loved her until he could see her face, he could at least let her know that he cared. "I _care_, you know? And I hope that whatever is bothering you clears up soon. I…I miss you." He waited a few more moments to see if she would finally open the door. When she didn't, he knew that it was something he did. But what was it? Hermione had never been so angry with him that she refused to talk to him. This was killing him. He needed to find out what he had done and apologize. With a plan beginning to form, he walked away from her door, only looking back once. It still remained closed.

DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

It was three o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon. Day three without hearing from Hermione. He still couldn't figure out what it was that he was supposed to have done. He had gone by her flat again earlier that day and her neighbor had mentioned that she had seen Hermione leaving the building that morning and had yet to see her return. Draco shoulders sagged. He walked around aimlessly for a while, before deciding that he might as well get some work done. He hadn't done anything yesterday, too busy worrying about Hermione. Maybe the work would distract him.

It must have worked a little too well, though, because it was almost eight o'clock at night when Ginny called asking if he wanted to have a late dinner at their house. Hermione would also be there. In the entire time that he and Hermione had been friends, the Potters had never personally asked him over for dinner. Sure, he often tagged along with Hermione, but this was the first time that he was actually extended his own invitation. He agreed, but let Ginny know that he may be late. There was no way he was going to show up for dinner, in front of Hermione, looking like he had slept in the clothes he was wearing. Yes, he _had_ indeed worn the clothes to sleep and had simply rolled out of bed, which is why he needed to change. If he was going to have to apologize to Hermione, he wanted to look his best. He ended up showing up almost an hour late to dinner, but shrugged it off since he hadn't come for food, anyway.

He knocked on the door of Grimmauld Place, a dozen red roses (for Hermione) and a bottle of white wine (for Ginny) in hand, and was escorted in by an old and feeble looking Kreacher. He made his way through the old house towards the dining room when he was stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

Ron Weasley was red in the face, quickly turning to purple, which happened often when he and Draco were in the same room. Hermione and Ginny were sitting at the table, the former looking guilty and the latter looking as if she might vomit.

"Excuse me," Ginny said, quickly running out of the room and into the nearest loo. He winced as he heard her retching and heaving.

"I hope you two didn't eat the same thing. It doesn't sound like it's sitting well with her," he said, breaking the awkward silence.

"She's pregnant," Hermione replied quietly.

"Ah." He supposed he could keep the wine for himself, then.

"Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing here, ferret?" Weasley did always have a way words.

"I was invited, of course."

"By who? As far as I've heard, Hermione isn't speaking to you and my sister or Harry wouldn't have invited you within twenty meters of their house."

"Actually, _Ron_," Ginny started icily as she returned from the loo. "_I_ invited Draco. Who invited _you_? As I recall, _I'm_ not speaking to _you._"

"Er…that was me," Harry piped in sheepishly. Ginny rolled her eyes. Typical male, always meddling.

"Why are you here, Ron?" Hermione asked wearily, relaxing back in her chair, rubbing her temples. Draco used to do that for her, for she often got migraines when Ron was getting on her nerves.

"Well, I came to apologize. I even brought you flowers." Hermione opened her eyes and took a short glance at the wilting bouquet of daisies. Hermione then stole a glance at the bouquet Draco held, her breath catching in her throat.

"And why are _you_ here, Draco?" she asked quietly. Draco smirked.

"I came to apologize. I even brought you flowers." He took three long strides towards her before kneeling so they were eye level.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't know what I did to make you stop speaking to me, but I am sorry. Please, let me make it right." Hermione's face grew red as a bit of wariness reappeared in her eyes.

"Excuse me, but I believe I was here first, Malfoy," Ron protested, his ire growing with each word. "But I can see I shouldn't have bothered because I don't want to get back with a lying, cheating, _slut_, like you, Hermione. You've been cheating on me with the ferret this entire time, haven't you?" Hermione shot up, fury in her eyes.

"_How dare you!_" But before she could say more, Draco swung and Ron hit the floor.

"What the fuck was that for, Malfoy?"

"Because you disgust me, Weasel. You stand there, and in the same breath that you lamely attempt to apologize, you call Hermione a cheating slut. That's a bit like the cauldron calling the kettle black, isn't it?"

"What's he talking about?" Harry interrupted.

"Ron cheated on me," Hermione said, her voice never wavering. Draco turned to look at her and saw the same woman he saw on the battlefield: a woman of strength, who wasn't going to let anyone treat her unfairly. He saw a woman that he hadn't seen in a long time, thanks to the stupid tosser than was massaging his quickly bruising jaw on the floor.

"Ron…" Harry began, his tone full of disappointment. "You told me it was a just a misunderstanding. That you'd made a small mistake and you wanted to fix things for good." Ginny scoffed.

"Yeah right. They were together for _years_ and he never even hinted at proposing."

"But it was a misunderstanding, Hermione. She meant nothing to me. I love you." Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"You don't love me, Ron. And this wasn't the only time you've done this. You've made it very obvious that you don't want commitment when you decided to stick your willy into every easy female you could find." Hermione was shouting now and breathing heavily. Ron began to take steps backwards, cowering in fear. "So excuse me, _Ronald_, but you can take your apology and shove it…"

"Whoa, okay, Hermione. Let's calm down." Draco took her by the shoulders and eased her away, leading her to the library. He sat her down gently, coaxing her to take deep breaths.

"Thanks," she whispered when she had calmed down.

"Feel better?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. Hermione looked up and her eyes narrowed.

"Not really. I'm still mad at you, you know." Draco sighed and pulled up a chair to sit across from her.

"No, I didn't know, Hermione. Because you won't talk to me." Hermione blushed and looked at her hands in her lap, knowing he was right.

"I went to your house a few nights ago. A woman answered the door." Draco allowed himself a sigh of relief.

"Is that all?" Hermione pulled away from Draco, stomping away as far away as she could without actually leaving the room.

"Draco, I went all the way to your place, after a _date_ with another, perfectly nice man, to tell you…well, it doesn't matter…and another woman answers the door in the shirt that I bought you for your last birthday. And all you can say is, 'is that all'?" Draco crossed his arms across his chest.

"Why does that upset you? You know I'm hardly celibate. You were just commenting on it last week, in fact. So why does the fact that a woman other than yourself was in my flat, wearing whatever she was wearing?"

"Because you _never_ bring women home!" Hermione exclaimed, spinning back around. "You've always said that the only women that have seen the inside of your home were your mother and…and…" Hermione trailed off, her cheeks becoming rosy, knowing how she sounded. Draco strode slowly over to her, closing the space between them.

"And you, Hermione." Draco watched her neck muscles move as she swallowed.

"Yes. And me."

"So…you still haven't answered my question," Draco said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Why does that bother you?"

"Because…"

"You know that's not an answer, Hermione." She avoided his eyes and stayed silent. He needed a different approach.

"What were you going to tell me, Hermione?" She looked up, her eyes suddenly panicked.

"What? I wasn't…"

"You said you came over that night to tell me something. What was it?" Hermione opened her mouth, but then immediately shut it again and shook her head, pushing past him.

"It hardly matters now."

Hermione was trying very hard not to cry. The worst part was that she wasn't exactly sure why she wanted to cry. Was it because she was still a bit envious over Ginny's pregnancy? Was it because Ron had walked in just as she was confessing that she was in love with another man? And why would she be upset about that? Was it because she felt guilty? That maybe the reason Ron had cheated on her was because deep down, he knew that she wasn't really as committed to him as they thought? Was it because Draco, despite not knowing what he had done wrong, had come all the way, with her favorite flowers no less, to apologize? Was it because she still felt the rawness of not being able to measure up to the woman that had answered his door? Or was it because she knew that if he was still seeing other women, he couldn't possibly be in love with her, too?

"Hermione," Draco called quietly, still standing on the other side of the library.

"What?" she said shakily.

"You don't have to believe me, but what you thought you saw…it wasn't anything." Hermione scoffed. Draco ignored it and continued on.

"I was drunk. She followed me home, thinking she could take advantage of my state. I came home, took a Pepper-Up Potion to sober up and when I came out, she was standing there, in my favorite shirt." Hermione turned slightly towards him.

"It's your favorite shirt?"

"Well, my next favorite after the one you knicked from me last week." Draco returned the small smile that Hermione couldn't hide. He began to close the space between them again, coming close enough to brush up against her back. Her hip just barely grazed the front of his trousers and he hissed, bringing his hands up to hold her hips in place. Hermione gasped, her cheeks turning rosy. He bit back a groan. She really had no idea what she did to him.

"I sent her away. I don't even know her name. And then I had planned on telling you something, too. But then you weren't speaking to me." Hermione turned completely around and looked into his eyes.

"Is it the same thing that I wanted to tell you?" Draco smiled.

"I don't know, you haven't told me, yet." Without warning, Hermione threw her arms around Draco's neck and brought his lips down to meet hers. Draco wasn't stupid; he immediately responded, wrapping his arms fully around her small waist.

And it was everything Hermione had always wanted in a kiss. It was sweet, yet passionate at the same time. His lips were soft and warm, not chapped like Ron's often were. He didn't slobber and didn't poke his tongue around her mouth like it was a slimy eel. Draco teased at her lips with both tongue and teeth, a particularly sharp nip causing her to gasp. Draco's tongue caressed against her own, entwining itself with hers. And the whole time, his hands didn't move from her waist, even though her nipples puckered, aching to be touched. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he broke away to trail a few kisses to her ear and then simply held her.

"I missed you." Hermione laughed lightly. She refused to call it a giggle.

"We've only been apart for, what? Three days?" Draco's arms tightened around her in response.

"And it was the worst three days of my life."

"Draco…" Hermione pulled away so she could see his face. And that look that she had been so ignorant of was right there. He wasn't trying to hide it and she wondered how she could have missed it all these years.

"I love you," she blurted out. Draco froze.

"You do?" Hermione smiled.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?" Draco looked down, his brow furrowed.

"Well, because…I'm…me."

"Yes? And?" Draco looked up and met her gaze. For the first time since she had become friends with Draco, she saw vulnerability there. In an instant, she thought back to all the times that Draco had said that he wasn't good enough for her, that he would never deserve her. All those times, Hermione had thought he was simply trying to make her feel better. But it was very apparent that he truly thought those things.

"Draco, you can't possibly believe that I'm really too good for you, do you?" Draco shrugged.

"I don't know, aren't you?" Hermione took a step back and set her fists on her hips.

"Now, you listen here, Draco Malfoy. I've finally admitted to myself, and now to you, that I've been in love with you for the past five years. And do you know why?" Draco stared at her, still amazed that those three words were finally being directed at him. And, yes, he had imagined that she would be saying them in this way: matter-of-factly, her arms akimbo, in full lecture mode. He knew it was incredibly disturbing to be aroused at this moment, but his rationalization was that _this_ was Hermione Granger in her element. Hermione in her purest, truest form.

"I love you," she continued, "because you are, one, incredibly intelligent." Now she was ticking his positive attributes on her fingers, reciting them as if she was reading off a list of ingredients for the Cure for Boils. _Hot_.

"I find the fact that I can carry on a conversation with you without having to stop and explain myself incredibly refreshing." Draco smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, settling into a squishy chair. This could take a while, not that he was trying to be smug about it or anything. Okay, lies…he totally was.

"Two, you've never tried to sugar coat anything for me. I appreciate that you treat me like an equal and not like a delicate flower. If I look horrible, you tell me. If I look wonderful, I trust your word because you would always tell me if I looked otherwise. And on the rare occasion that I'm wrong about something," she paused, allowing herself an amused smirk, which he returned. _Ha, Granger wrong about something? If ever such a thing happened, Hell would freeze over and the Apocalypse would be nigh._ "If I was ever wrong about anything, I can trust you to tell me.

"Third, in your own way, you show me you care. You take care of me when I'm sick, which is more than Ron had ever done." She was interrupted by a loud, "Hey!" from the other side of the closed library door. With a roll of his eyes, Draco lazily pointed his wand at the door and muttered, "_Silencio_," which was followed by an irritated pounding at the door. Hermione, with short, irritated movements, waved her wand and the pounding stopped.

"Maybe I should have cast a Silencing Charm when we started." Draco raised an eyebrow as if to say, "You think?" Hermione shook her head and continued on.

"Yes, you took care of me, you never let me pay for my own dinner or at the cinema, which I wouldn't have minded, but I appreciate that you take charge." Hermione blushed. "It's kind of a turn on, really." Draco's eyes darkened and Hermione's breath quickened in response. She needed to wrap this up."

"And don't think that I didn't know you were letting me ruin your shirts and pillows. I know that you know it makes me feel better." Draco stood and was standing dangerously close again.

"And lastly, I love you because even while I was with a lying, cheating, weasel, even knowing that I could have done much better by being with you, you never pushed or took advantage of me, or gave me any ultimatums, because I know you value our friendship as much as I do." Draco nodded, still just looking at her, not touching. Somehow, he knew she still wasn't done.

"Can I ask you something?" Draco gave her one, slow nod. "Why didn't you stay?" He knew that she was talking about that morning after at Hogwarts. And there were so many different answers to that one question, he didn't know where to start.

"Did you want me to stay?" he asked instead.

"Well, I understand why you wouldn't have wanted to. It was just a one-time thing, right? And I know that it couldn't have been that great, I didn't even know what I was doing. I didn't have the experience you did and it's not like I expected anything to come out of it. I just thought…" He finally cut her babbling off with a rough kiss.

"Hermione," he breathed out when he finally came up for air again. "That night was perfect." He swallowed deeply, ready to finally tell her the secret he had been keeping for years.

"I couldn't have asked for a more perfect first time." Hermione frowned immediately.

"You don't need to lie, Draco, especially not now. I knew your reputation." Draco shook his head.

"Lies. I mean, I knew what I was doing in theory and I had…experimented. But that was the first time I had ever…er…_practiced_." Hermione blushed, knowing that he was telling her the truth ."I'm not going to lie and say that I was completely innocent, but that was my first _real_ experience." She blushed harder, feeling incredibly turned on with the knowledge that they had both been each other's firsts.

"And to answer your question," he continued on in a voice barely above a whisper. "I never wanted to leave. But then Weasley's stupid owl came and ruined the morning after and I knew you were going to go back to him. I didn't think you were meant for me. So I packed my stuff, left and thought that it would be easier to just remain friends and forget it ever happened." He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes.

"But let me tell you, Hermione, it was absolutely agonizing to watch you go back with that oaf. I knew then, just as I know now, that I love you." Hermione knew it was coming, but even still, she felt the tears spring to her eyes.

"Up until now, I thought that I couldn't have you and that you would never return my feelings, so I kept it to myself. I pretended that it was no big deal tried to move on. Plus, believe it or not, I was afraid." Hermione laughed a bit through her tears.

"Afraid? You?" Draco returned her amusement with a crooked smile.

"Yes, I was. You were Hermione Granger, decorated war hero. I was just Draco, the bloke who narrowly avoided Azkaban on a technicality of age. And on top of that, I was also a Malfoy, the scion of a family whose name was being dragged through dirt everyday, no matter how hard I work to build it back up to some semblance of respectability. I didn't want to bring you into the mess that was my life. I was afraid that even if you did return my feelings, I would somehow fall short.

"I'll never be an easy person to be with. People will question you for being with me. And maybe even accuse you of fraternizing with the enemy. They'll judge you, harass you, and give you a hard time. I didn't want that for you and I was willing to be selfless for once in my life and let you go. Simply being your friend was good enough for me." Hermione blinked a few times to clear up the tears.

"Well, we've both admitted we love each other, and I'm free of Ron. So where does that leave us now? Do you still want to be…friends? Is that what you're saying?" Hermione's heart thumped hard in her chest. She wasn't sure she'd like to remain just friends anymore. Draco chuckled and drew her in close, allowing her to feel the effect she was having on him. _Oh my_.

"Hell no, Granger. From now on, I'm going to be selfish. You're mine and fuck anyone who objects." And with that, he dipped down to cover her mouth with his again.

It was hardly romantic and she could hear the pounding on the door since her Silencing Spell wore off, but she couldn't help but think that this moment was absolutely _perfect_.

* * *

**A/N: And there it is! This was incredibly difficult to write, probably because I knew it was ending. :(**

**It has so far been my favorite story to write. I have no idea where the idea came from, really. I, myself, have all male best friends, but I have never experienced a situation such as this. Chalk it up to an active imagination, I suppose.**

**The relationship between Ron and Hermione, however, can be firmly based on a personal experience. And while I didn't exactly have a Draco to come save me, there was still a knight ready to come pick me up after that nasty situation.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to message me any time with your thoughts on this or any of my other works. If you feel that I could have done something to make this better, by all means, tell me about it.**

**Keep an eye out for an epilogue and stay awesome!**


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